Monsters in the Eye of Monsters
by faint blue
Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born. AU Romione
1. Chapter One

Monsters in the Eyes of Monsters

 _Summary_ : "In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley."

 **A/N: So, this is my new project. I guess I just like writing stories, although my motivation is way too unstable to really keep one up. BUT, I will keep this going until I'm done with it. Basically, the plot is very,** _ **very**_ **much more than just the summary. This adventure will take you out on a trip far too big for you to realize just yet. And, so to say, I hope you enjoy it as much as I will. The updates will be rather frequent, but I need some time to actually write them and check over for spelling mistakes et cetera et cetera.**

 **If there is some weird stuff you'd like to tell me, some hate you want to give me, some well-appreciated love you'll share, feel free to leave a review, short or long, whatever is your taste. Now, I'll quit my blabbering and start onto the real story, the adventure you were actually looking for here.**

 **Chapter One**

Hermione Granger, a rather happy Muggle living in a rather small town, was whistling a slow tune as she walked down the dirt road to her little cottage. She had her arms full of brown paper bags containing various types of vegetables and milk. Her brown hair was spiralling down in waves, cropped off just above her shoulders. Her orange sweater made her gentle brown eyes stand out as pearls of chocolate. She tripped happily in the direction of the woods and her tiny hut with the full bags in her arms. The gravel squeaked underneath her feet as she walked.

The blue sky reflected her light mind as she let out the last whistling note of her tune. It died out silently, leaving her with the peaceful sounds of the lively forest around her. It was like the woods continued her song. The wind made the pines wheezed slightly, making the birds sing along accompanied by the peaceful song of a raven in the distance.

Hermione sighed. Life in her village was peaceful, even when the outside world was such a gruesome place to live, with the constant feud between the wizards and her people.

By the end of the road, between two pines stretching proudly for the sky, she spotted brown wood and a red doormat. Her humble, little home.

Two brown paper bags dropped to the ground as she found her key and swung the door open, breathing in the scent of burnt firewood and wool. As soon as she opened her eyes, they directly stopped on the floor. Her woollen carpet was thrown aside.

The hesitation bit her as she stepped inside and closed the door. The feeling of sudden nervousness and uneasiness came into full force the second she heard the door slam shut. Her full bags dropped to the ground and her eyes widened. Her breath became short and ragged. The vegetables rolled out of the destroyed bags.

A figure rapidly came into view. It jumped forward and screeched to a halt. For a second, its face was void of emotion. The black clothing flew around it and settled around its body. The person lifted a hand and a small, fragile-looking wooden stick came into view.

A wizard.

A real wizard. In her house.

 _There was a wizard in her house._

She knew it was a wizard. No other people wore robes like that. She remembered the malicious drawings they'd shown her at school. The robes were unmistakably a wizard's. And wizards were evil. Hermione felt the fear grip her heart and squeeze it, trying to press the life juice out of it – just like the wizard could do in seconds.

The wizard stood by her, only a few steps to her right. He had hid by the wall, ready to attack and kill her the second she had arrived. A brief thought of escape was blown away immediately. He could kill her, now or later. Magical people were not to be trusted, as she'd learnt in school. She met the wizard's gaze, and she looked away, managing to steal a look at him.

The boy was around her age, but remarkably tall. He almost reached the ceiling, although the ceiling was of the lower kind. It made her cringe. It scared her, having to deal with such a big human. He had red hair like he'd set brown hair aflame and never got rid of the fire. His eyes were wide open, painted in an innocent blue – but she knew wizards and witches were vicious people, far from innocent. She'd been taught right. The wizard opened his mouth, and surprised her by his choice of words.

"Please. I'm not going to hurt you," his voice was serious, but needing. A warm hand covered her mouth, not hard, but not pleasantly. She could feel the rough surface of his palm against her lips. The feeling of something dark dawning on her lost its effect as his voice cracked in the middle. He sounded somewhat pathetic, but the edging feeling of the magical people's viciousness made her shudder. "When I remove my hand, you will not scream. I promise I won't hurt you,"

She nodded, paralyzed with fear, and he removed his hand slowly. His gaze burnt her and she tried to beat her hammering heart. The vegetables were spread all over her floor. She stared at him, his stare burning on the inside of her eyelids. "You...you are a wizard," she stuttered, staggering back, stepping on a crushed fruit. She raised her hands defensibly. "Please, don't kill me, please," her voice raised a pitch.

The wizard's blue eyes widened further. He stepped forward, but stopped as she raised her hands higher. "I won't hurt you. Please, just understand," he paused, "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm not evil,"

The words ringed in her ears. His voice was like silk in her ears, but his words were hard and pointy.

"You...you..." Hermione started, the undertone of unbelief faded slowly, "You're not gonna kill me?"

"No, I'm not," he replied. His tense shoulders eased a little, "Do you believe me?" Her stomach told her to run, to not believe him, but the logic part of her brain told her that if he wanted her dead, she'd be lying on the floor dead by now. "Yes, I believe you, Wizard,"

"That's not some kind of insult, is it?" he surprised her by sounding so gentle and joking, just like they were old friends, "Because you don't sound very menacing, Muggle," She raised an eyebrow. He wasn't any better. At least she'd discovered that although magical people were evil creatures, they still had a sense of humour.

The wizard raised his arm to scratch his shoulder, making her cringe at his sudden motion. He gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry," his grin faded, but came back with double strength, "I believe I didn't quite catch your name?"

He stretched out a hand in a welcoming gesture, making her inwardly freak out. This was one of the monsters of her history books. One of the villains massacring dozens of her kind only years ago. He was the monster – the beast – and he was trying to...greet her?

He must have noticed her doubt and began returning his hand, but she quickly grabbed it before it was out of reach. "I'm Hermione Granger, professional Muggle," she said, out of pure lack of things to say. He grinned back.

"I'm Ron Weasley, professional Wizard," and they shook hands.

Hermione smiled as he let go of her hand. There was a moment where the emotions were raging inside her like a storm. What was she supposed to feel? She had shook hands with the enemy, the beast, the villain of her world. And she was acting nice? It felt like a crime, knowing dozens of Muggles had died under the attacks they'd caused to her people.

And the worst was, he seemed normal. Not like the blood-thirsty, malicious magical people in the books. He was pretty similar to the Muggles in her town, any Muggle actually, and it scared her.

The wizard – Ron – grinned sheepishly again and scratched his neck nervously. "Do you mind if I stay over? I don't have a place for tonight, and I...when I arrived, I thought this hut was abandoned, that's why I was here, really,"

Hermione looked at him with astonishment. Her eyebrows rose slowly and she opened her mouth to reply to his blunt request. She even surprised herself as the words came tumbling out of her mouth, "You're free to stay, but you must sleep on the ground, because I'm not sharing bed with a stranger," _or a wizard_ , she wanted to add.

Ron Weasley looked her in the eyes and drew out his wand. With a careful sweep of it, a bed conjured itself onto the floor, ready for use. "Just a little perk of being a magical," he muttered before he winked at her.

Right then and there, she wondered if the world really was just painted in black and white, right and wrong, because she surely didn't know where to place Ron Weasley the Wizard.

Hermione smiled, but on the inside it felt like she was splashed with acid. "Why did you come here?" Ron had sit down in his bed, eyes glued to the wall in front of him. He looked up at her, blinking blankly. He opened his mouth, closed it and tried again. "I..." he looked away, "I was being followed by Death Eaters, not like you know what that means,"

"You can tell me, because frankly, I don't appreciate people breaking into my house, scaring me to death and back, then ask me for a sleepover," she snapped. Hermione didn't manage to stop the somewhat rude words from rolling off her tongue, but it was true. He had broken into her house and basically asked for a bloody sleepover.

Ron sighed and propped his head onto his hands. He closed his innocent blue eyes before shifting his gaze to the wall again. "They're...bad people," she raised an eyebrow, bending down to collect her broken vegetables. "Bad people? Why do you have to hide from them? All wizards and witches are bad people,"

A small smile popped up on his face, making him seem ever more mystical. He stepped over to her and helped her collect the vegetables that were spread across the floor. His hands gracefully worked until her paper bags once again were full.

Just before he'd dropped the last vegetable into the bag, he muttered almost too quietly for her to hear, "Not all," and she swore that she heard him add, "Not me,"

 **End Chapter One**

 **A/N: Well thank you. Please leave a review, updates will probably be weekly. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the first chapter!**


	2. Chapter Two

Monsters in the Eyes of Monsters

 _Summary_ : "In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley."

 **A/N: Thank you so much for all your kind reviews (and unkind. But I guess I asked for it, so to say. Quoting myself in the latest chapter '...hate you want to give me...' so yeah.) Thanks for reviewing and I hope you like the second chapter of this Romione!**

 **Chapter Two**

Hermione woke up to complete chaos. The fierce sounds of windows shattering and things being thrown to the ground made her eyes pop open. Along with several thunders of running feet and weird popping sounds, she spotted black figures appearing. It took a second to realize they were all gathered around her.

Instantly, the faint feeling of her recent sleep vanished. Her little hut was filled with faceless people in long, black cloaks. She could see it now, they created a circle. She was the trapped animal in the middle. The cloaked people were silent. Their pale faces shone from underneath the hoods and their bony hands held fragile-looking stick. _Wands,_ she recognized while her face lost its colour.

A tall person stepped forward, its wand, directed at her, made her throat clamp together and her chest feel tight. The wand was as dark as the person's cloak and directed straight at her heart, sending chills racking through her body and goosebumps appearing on her forearms.

She could make out grey lips underneath the hood. Hermione shut her eyes as they began moving fiercely in the darkness. A thought ran through her mind. These people were people of darkness. The black cloaks were certainly invisible in the nothingness of the night. Everything about them seemed dark, even their presence in her warm cottage made it seem cold and frightening.

Hermione imagined the horrifying features the wizards and witches wore in the books. She was utterly terrified. Her blood ran cold as the figure raised a pale and bony hand to its hood, letting it fall.

The face was the opposite of what she expected. She thought the face would be sickly thin and hollow. She imagined the dark shadows hugging its black and red eyes and hollow cheeks. She imagined its almost hairless scalp, all the skin marred with scars of horror. And the last finish to the horrid face, brown teeth sharpened into arrowheads. Its eyes shining in grey and red, showing the bloodshed it had caused.

Despite what she had been taught to believe, the hood revealed a porcelain-pale male. The teenager looked fierce, nonetheless, with his sharp smirk and darkened features. His hair was so light blonde it hurt her eyes, contrasting deeply with his black cloak. His grey eyes showed nothing, it was like looking into a cold stone wall. He began hissing several angry words. His furious whispers made her cringe and feel small and fragile.

"Where is Weasley?" the words made her heart turn to stone and her body stiffen. She realized her mistake when the blonde guy moved his hand, sending away some of the intimidating cloaked people, probably to investigate her house. "Where is he, Muggle?"

The guy stepped closer until they stood chest to chest. She could hear his breath in her ears. "I know he's here. Maybe you'll live if you tell us where he is?"

Hermione felt her response force its way through her closed throat. Her brown eyes flashed to where Ron's bed stood a mere three hours ago. It was gone, just as her panic-stricken voice. Inwardly, she hoped he's come and rescue her, but she doubted that he was here anymore. Any self-conscious person would've fled the second these people had arrived. He had no chance against the magical people threatening her.

Her voice croaked and the tears burned in her eyes. Her mouth was dry as wool. She felt cold sweat make her hands damp. "You are bloody insane!" she shrieked in his face.

His features sharpened into a sinister expression. His smirk became dark as night and his eyes had an evil glint in them. His mouth opened and through his dazzling white teeth, he spat on her feet. "Fucking stupid Muggle, aren't you?" he hissed and stuck his wand forcefully into her spine, "Do you have any bloody idea what your preposterously fucked-up society has done to us? Do you want to know how insane that is, Muggle?" with each word, he stuck his wand farther into her skin, making her blood boil and her skin throb dangerously, close to let the wand burst through.

The pale wizard removed his wand and Hermione had to bite her lip to avoid rubbing the sore spot. A wicked grin stood plastered on his face as the wand almost touched her nose tip. In a foreign language, he started talking. Spells were performed in Latin, Hermione realized with a gasp.

" _Avada_ –" he started slowly, but was quickly cut off by a shout behind him. Hermione almost cried out in joy as she spotted flame-red hair in the middle of the room. A lump of guilt bubbled in the depths of her stomach. She had probably just sentenced their deaths.

" _Malfoy,_ " Ron growled. Despite what she'd imagined him to be, he looked truly like a knight in shining armour. His hair wasn't unruly and he looked kept and calm. She was sure he didn't look like that last night. A piece of his red hair fell in front of his sky blue eyes. He truly looked like a warrior. Then, the blonde wizard, Malfoy, raised a hand. The other dark-cloaked wizards froze and Malfoy sneered cruelly at Hermione's rescuer, " _Weasley_ ,"

Ron's innocent blue orbs flash to Hermione, then back to Malfoy, "Let the Muggle go, she hasn't done anything,"

"Sure, I'll let her go. And after that we'll have a giddy Gryffindor party at my house with Potter and your pathetic friends," Malfoy spat sarcastically at Ron, his dark wand pointed at Ron, sending dangerous dark sparks his way "What did you think, Weasley, that I'd ever listen to a suicidal Gryffindor?"

"Malfoy, I'm serious, let her go. Maybe I have the whole Order just waiting to burst in and kill you all right now, just by a flick of my wrist," Ron said challengingly, although the waver in his voice told her he was a lousy liar.

Malfoy grunted victoriously, "Gryffindors are such reckless morons, always thinking of chivalry. What a brave person you must be to try and save an innocent Muggle girl and kill yourself in the process," The magical people in the black cloaks snickered smugly at his joke. Although Hermione didn't know what a Gryffindor was, she was sure it was insulting to Ron. His ears went red as blood.

"Says the Slytherin who wouldn't hesitate a second to stab his fellow mates in the back for his own survival," he replied, making the room go silent. A growl sounded on the other side of the room, followed with a statement that made Hermione get goosebumps all over her arms, "Can't we just kill them already?"

" _Shut up!"_ Malfoy hissed, but his voice was muffled as a deafening crack exploded in the room, and there suddenly stood a dark-haired boy in the middle of their circle. The boy had a pair of round glasses and a scar on his forehead, making Hermione wonder how he got it. His emerald eyes flashed in her way before they moved to the pale teenager in front of her.

The boy sent a grin Malfoy's way before he held onto Ron's shoulder, and the both of them disappeared into thin air. She could feel the rage that quickly spread in the room. All the hooded faces were directed at Hermione.

A wizard with a ring on his finger lifted his wand and pointed it at Hermione, "Time to finish you off, darlin'," he said and shouted something indecipherable.

A split second before the green lightening emitting from his wand hit her, a churning feeling erupted in the pit of her stomach. It felt like the world was deforming, pushing and pulling her in every direction. Everything went black and faint colours mixed in the dark. A lurking feeling told her she still was alive, and the world came back into view.

"Is she all right?" she heard a faint voice ask. Hermione blinked while the colours were rushing into her mind all over. Her throat burnt, like she'd drunk lava. The world swayed and her vision became blurry.

"I think I'm gonna throw up," she muttered, and she felt somebody take her hand and lead her to a place unknown to her. She had no idea what was going on, and the confusion didn't lessen its hold on her.

"You okay?" Hermione was certain that it was Ron. His hand felt warm in her own. A scar was embedded in his palm, although it didn't do anything to the feeling of his soft skin. At least she was safe, where-ever she was.

"Drink this," Ron handed her a small bottle with a purple liquid inside, "It's a Pepper-Up Potion. It will make you feel better,"

The hesitation disappeared as another wave of nausea washed over her. The moment the first drop entered her mouth, her mind cleared and her vision because steady and ordinary once again.

She was sitting on a grass plain covered with wildly growing bushes and old trees with deep furrows. The grass carpet faded further into the distance of the trees. Some places, it looked like somebody forcefully had grabbed the grass, and only the fresh dirt was left. Old, brown leaves from last summer covered the shadowed grass.

Behind her a small tent was set up. Its thin material seemed to permanently fleet peacefully in the weak wind. It blew her hair into her mouth and chocolate brown eyes. She brushed the strands away with her hand as she leant backwards on the other. In the opening of the tent, Ron's black-haired companion swept in and out.

"What happened?" she found herself asking, "What was that?"

Ron and the guy with the scar sighed. "Just be glad you're safe," the black-haired teen smiled, "I'm Harry... Potter" The name sounded vaguely familiar in her mind. Was he some powerful wizard she'd learnt about in school? Hermione took his hand, "Hermione Granger. Thanks for saving me from...those people,"

"You're welcome. It's not like we can leave you there surrounded by Death Eaters. Then you'd die," Her eyebrows knitted together and she looked at them questioningly, "Death Eaters?"

Ron laughed. The chuckling died away. It didn't feel right to laugh after nearly dying. "The people in the cloaks. 'The bad people' as you called them," Hermione nodded. The silence made a summing sound in her ears. Her heart was almost calm and her eyes were free from water. What remained was the confused furrow of her brows and the swirling confusion in her head.

Hermione wanted to ask Ron more about these people. What they wanted to accomplish by hurting her newfound friend. Turning around, she realized he had moved and had left an empty spot beside her. The air still smelled of him, like spicy pepper yet sweet as chocolate.

She met them inside the green tent. They were conversing in low voices. She almost smiled at Ron's excited voice when he exclaimed, "How in the world did you manage to Apparate to me? You didn't know where I was, and I _had_ set some anti-Apparition spells all about it,"

Harry smiled and turned to Hermione, this time understanding all the words used, whispering for all of them to hear, "Well, Hermione, let's keep it a secret, but every time he sets those spells, I double check,"

She chuckled and sent a glance Ron's way. He glared at the two with an annoyed expression, but the glare quickly softened, causing them both to burst out laughing. Ron just couldn't keep serious. Hermione didn't stop laughing, and when it finally faded, a warm feeling spread in her body, causing her to let out one last giggle.

 **Chapter Two End Notes**

 **I didn't quite like how this chapter became but...a penny for your thoughts?**


	3. Chapter Three

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

 _Summary:_ In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: Hey again people. So, long time no see, right? First of all, I'm sorry, but some personal problems decided to pop up and destroy my forever-lasting writing joy. But now I'm back again, so no need to worry! Because as I said before, updates will be close to weekly, and I always try to hold my promises.**

 **You: "After all this time?"**

 **Me: "Always,"**

 **Chapter Three**

The next day, she was woken by the delicious smell of food. It smelt like bacon and eggs, but she soon realized it was what Ron called "tasty and colourful breakfast", consisting of a dry toast buried in several kinds of vegetables, spicy pepper and other unrecognizable foods.

The flood of light that had swept open her eyelids was unnatural. The night was still in its darkest hours, the darkness seeping though the thin tent material like mist. It seemed like the tent could collapse any second under the weight of the night. She doubted there was a moon out there at all, although she had carefully peeked outside to realize it was full and cast a pale moonlight on the deserted and dry branches over her head.

She had to crack a smile as she crept out of her sleeping bag, or rather Ron's sleeping bag. The space in the tent was minimal, so he'd given up his sleeping bag for her, ending up cuddled together with Harry. Hermione couldn't help but shiver in the slight cold, a small part of her jealous of their shared body warmth. A memory of Ron making a bed appear in thin air struck her mind, but she didn't have the energy to think more about it as the smell of breakfast forced itself into her nose and mouth, making her stomach rumble horribly.

Ron and Harry sat stiffly inside their small sleeping bag, a plate on each of their laps. Ron kept raising a hand to pull his hair out of his eyes and Hermione thought he looked rather cute while constantly drawing it back, only to let it fall in his eyes again when he bent over his food.

Hermione looked down on her plate, only to find it full of small breadcrumbs. Her stomach growled. The dry toast wasn't exactly satisfying. Ron looked up at the noise and Hermione felt the blood collect in her cheeks.

He smiled his askew smile, his blue eyes glowing a shade darker, "I'm sorry, 'Mione, but we don't have an unlimited supply of food," he began before his eyes grew wider and he started stuttering, "I can call you 'Mione, right? Because your name is so long and frankly it takes a lot of time to say it,"

Hermione's face grew a tad redder, "So you're saying my name is...hard to pronounce?"

She felt Harry's amused stare pierce her vision, but refused to look his way, painfully aware of the colour in her cheeks and their ridiculous conversation.

Ron's ears were blood red when he came up with an excuse, "I'm not saying that your name is ugly. I mean, it's pretty and it fits you, it's just that 'Mione is easier to say. No offence, 'Mione," he paused and Hermione chuckled, "Bloody hell, I said it again, didn't I?"

Hermione felt the smile plastered across her face slowly grow wider, her teeth showing more and more. She looked him in the eye and he offered a shy grin, "You have my permission to call me 'Mione'," Hermione said in her best imitation of the Muggle queen of England, pretending to lift a cup of tea.

Ron's face split into a smile that made her cheeks, which the blood had left only seconds ago, redden once again, to her irritation. "Didn't know Muggles had a sense of humour," he managed to utter between gulps of air. His laughter pierced the tent, making the darkness from the outside drift away.

"Well, that was until you met me," Hermione continued and the three of them broke into pathetic laughter. Her eyes met Ron's blue orbs and their stares locked. It lasted only a small moment, but the moment was frozen on the back of her eyelids.

It almost took her back to the time her life was spinning around a small hut in the woods, her arms packed with vegetables and groceries.

The laughter died out and Harry let out a last choked gasp before a sudden chill ran though the tent. The walls of the tent fluttered wildly, like a warning, making her shiver and goosebumps appear on her skin. The hairs on her neck raised themselves slowly, along with the dying wind.

The temperature sank. She began uncontrollably shaking. Hermione had to bite her tongue and clamp together her jaw to prevent her teeth from shaking and shattering in the gust of a sudden coldness. In a strange way, she knew something evil had come into her bubble of happiness, just like the bad people – the Death Eaters – had pinched and popped her safety bubble at home.

An inhuman scream pierced the air, making her cringe. It was near. Closer than she wanted to acknowledge.

The boys sent each other worried glances. She thought she might have recognized a terrified glint in Ron's innocent blue ones, and that made her worry too. Hermione realized that this was no ordinary wolf, and there was no safe forest they were camping in.

And they were in trouble.

Another deafening scream sounded in the air, making her blood freeze in her veins. The hollow contents of the creature's agonizing screams echoed back and forth, pulling in the tents thin material shield. Hermione wanted to reach out and force the walls to stop fluttering. It was making her nervous.

"What are we gonna do?" Harry mouthed to his two friends silently. The sentence triggered her primal instincts and she had to keep a strong grip on her self control to keep herself from running out of the tent screaming bloody murder. He and Ron had already drawn their wands, their eyes flickering around alarmingly.

She felt the sore feeling of blood running down her arms where she'd clawed herself with her nails. Hermione bit her lip. Hard. The rusty feeling made her senses awaken to their fullest.

The silence was overbearing, but was broken by a fragile yelp and a growl that followed shortly afterwards. Then, the only sound remaining was of the weak breeze pushing branches and pulling leaves along the ground.

The weak wind decreased slowly, but noticeably. Hermione shuddered as the weak wind disappeared with a final gust. First, there had been sound, indicating that time was not frozen, then, there was nothing. Only the fluttering image of the tent walls falling asleep and hanging limp on the poles.

Her muscles had stiffened and she was sitting in a cramp-like foster position. Her hands were numb. The blood had miraculously been pressed back in her veins. They were cold and pale as the moon outside.

On the wall next to her, she could see the faint shadows of the thick trees surrounded by cobwebs of branches and dried leaves. A leaf had settled peacefully just above her head.

That's when she saw it.

A branch had broken, letting out a last, drying crack. All of the three habitants of the tent had turned their head in the direction of the sound, each having their own concentrated, horrified expression plastered across their face.

In fact, Hermione didn't even need to turn her head, because she'd already noticed what had made the sound. The shadow of a sickly thin, hairy creature had stepped out into shadow show on the tent wall.

It was tall. Taller than her. Even taller than Ron. Its back was bent into something looking like an old man's posture, except for its abnormally big muscles, which she could spot _through_ the green material of the tent. It almost looked human, if you didn't count the long, hairy ears and knife-sharp claws that looked like a fine cause to a quick death.

Hermione gasped out loud as it turned its head towards their tent. Its ears sprung upwards and it let out a snort that sounded a lot like a menacing laugh. It lifted its head and sniffed the air. Hermione could smell the rot emitting from its pores. She was reminded of a killing machine, knowing too well that it was the creature's purpose.

She only hoped it couldn't smell fear.

Hermione didn't dare to blink as the shadow ran out of its show. Her racing heart beat faster than even before. The blood pumped hard in her head. She could only hear her own breath and her own heartbeats, appreciating that they weren't gone quite yet.

Her eyes locked with the boys'. Harry stood stiffly in the middle of the room. Ron was sitting crooked on his toes with his wand directed to the opening in the tent. Harry spun around when another crack filled the air, another step closer to their position.

Hermione felt the tension emitting from them in waves. The desperation that washed over her made her feel hopeless. _They_ could protect themselves, but what about _her_?

Ron had sensed her conflicted emotions, and carefully tip-toed over to her, flashing a nervous grin her way, showing her that he would, once again, be her knight in shining armour if needed to.

The temporary relief that a few seconds ago had flooded her, was now fading and sent her spiralling down into a state of fear. The growls and irritated snorts had started up again, just outside the opening of their tent. The creature hadn't been this close, and she could sense its hunger. A strangled scream escaped from its throat before she noticed the claw.

The creature had found out that they were in the tent, and was slowly pulling the tent open.

The three teenagers stood still, not daring to shift their positions in fear of awakening the death machine beast that threatened to tear them apart.

Hermione gasped silently as its face came into view, but she didn't have time to express her disgust for the creature's features, as it had already lunged forward in a swift, fast-as-lightening leap. And in the end, she just found herself standing just in front of it, its yellow eyes tinged with animalistic hunger and unpredictability.

 **End Notes**

 **Thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Especially thanks to all reviewers, who have waited faithfully (I hope) for a new update. So, chapter three done – what do you guys think, still hungry for more?**


	4. Chapter Four

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

 _Summary:_ In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: I'm so,** _ **so**_ **sorry for the long wait. Truly, I really am. But as much as you probably loathe my excuses by now, I have some really valid ones. But actually, right now, I don't care to list the million excuses and just tell you one.**

 **Stay clear of sports, kids, you can break your finger. (...which basically means that winter sports are bitches and I broke my finger. Thanks for loving me)**

 **Chapter Four**

The first thing that came to Hermione's mind when the creature suddenly was standing, literally, in her face, was to hit it with something. And that's exactly what she did.

Her hands searched frantically after a weapon whilst her eyes couldn't escape the yellow orbs of the creature. She felt the panic tug in the back of her mind, but forced it to remain suppressed as best as she could. Hermione was certain she could feel the distress and fear radiate from Harry and Ron as well, but the feeling was distant, as her own fright was overwhelming her senses with adrenaline.

The deformed human-wolf creature growled dangerously, making her cringe. Its eyes blinked knowingly as she imagined it leap onto her and snap her neck. The second before she sensed its attack, her fingertips brushed against something hard, pointy and solid. Immediately classifying it as her choice of weapon, she lunged at the creature in a state of frantic, aggressive panic.

The object hit the creature in the back. Hard. The sound of it hitting soft flesh punctured by its protruding spine, echoed in the tent like a bullet.

The being staggered forward, against Hermione's panic-hazed mind's assumption. She barely had time to recognize long, yellow fangs and a pair of claws before she found herself hitting the ground, the monster on top of her.

It took a second for the comprehension to settle in her gut. Apparently, the force that followed the blow had made the creature stumble forward, onto _her_. A moment flew by, where there was not a sound. She could hear the faint sound of leaves in the wind. Her eyes widened as she heard Ron's quick intake of breath.

Then the creature growled, deeper and in a more threatening tone. Hermione could feel the tingle of its breath before it climbed up. Its raving form towered above her, making her swallow her breath and bite her tongue. The taste of blood peppered her mouth with flavour.

The creature's eyes flickered between her and a spot behind her. Just as it fixed its gaze on her, a shout made it look up, but it was too late. The lightening of colour had already penetrated its form. The colours swirled around it before they settled on its skin. Its eyes went glassy, but never closed.

A warm hand touched her shoulder gently. Hermione didn't turn around, but rather tried to collect her voice. "W-what was that...that _thing_?!" she finally managed to stutter, breaking the deafening silence. Her voice felt hollow in the silent tent in the never-ending forest. The blood was still buzzing in her ears.

She felt a presence to her right and turned around to see Ron. He carefully scoffed his feet in front of him and sat down next to her. The warm hand disappeared from her shoulder. Inwardly, she felt the warmth in her blood dissipate along with it, and found herself willing it to return.

"That, my good Muggle, was a werewolf," Ron said, his voice wavering slightly. It made her smile weakly.

"Why isn't it locked up, killed, like the other magical creatures? They're supposed to be extinct by now..." she started, but her voice faded as she met Ron's blue eyes. She felt like a trance was slowly engulfing her, making it impossible to break the contact. Lucky for her, his eyes averted from hers and locked with the creature's body on the floor.

"This is a magical forest. One of many," Ron began, a sorrowful smile gracing his face as his eyes were glued to the tent entrance, "The ministry...the _Muggle_ ministry will never have complete control over the magical. Evolution is bound to happen, we'll never be extinct. Despite all your...all our losses, we'll not disappear,"

Hermione felt how his body tensed when he told her about losses. She could read him like an open book, in spite of all the secrets he kept. The theme of death was a sore spot for him. Hermione didn't even need to refer to her history books to know what painful experiences he must have gone through.

She took a deep breath, feeling it vibrate in the pit of her lungs before she spoke quietly, "I feel sorry for you..." she paused and glanced at Ron, his orange hair on fire, "Just a day ago, I realized...that maybe not all of you are evil, malicious people with a skill to kill," her brown eyes flickered to the werewolf lying on the floor and regretted the last words.

In a second, his funny attitude was suddenly up and about. Offering her a hand, he reassured her, "Don't worry, I didn't kill it. It's still alive, just frozen," he offered her a goofy smile and joined Harry, who was currently throwing several of their belongings into a small skin bag.

After the fifteenth item, a wooden box, she wondered if it wasn't full yet. Hermione almost gasped when she looked inside it, noticing an enormous room inside it. Harry stopped filling it and offered her a humorous grin. "Magically enchanted bag with enough space for an elephant," It made her stomach stop spinning and she felt a little better, knowing that Harry hadn't left her yet. Hermione chuckled, but her heart was still going haywire. A small part of her brain still screamed 'when are we going back home?', while another told the first to shut up and enjoy the company.

Ron, who ended up throwing the sleeping bags and a casserole into the roomy bag, laughed before he silently waved his wand in the direction of the frozen, ravenous werewolf.

"We better get packed and leave soon. I don't want a hungry, _very much living_ werewolf in our backyard," he laughed at his own, lame joke before Harry nodded at him. Ron uttered a small incantation and the werewolf was literally gliding out of the entrance of the tent a meter above the ground.

Feeling a lot tougher when the wolf was gone, Hermione followed Ron outside, muttering to Harry that it was for 'security precautions only'.

She found him leaning against a tree, staring up at the pale, round moon though the thick branches. A net of small branches embraced the sky like a spider's web, making her feel caged in the woods.

Her eyes wandered up to the moon. His forearm brushed hers, and he quickly swung it out of her way, careful not to touch her. "At least we're still standing," he said. Although Hermione felt her eyebrows meet in a confused frown, she repeated, "Still standing,"

 **Chapter Four End Notes**

 **A/N: So, I thought to make it a little longer, but I have to do all my stupid homework now. Unfortunately. What do you think about this story this far?**


	5. Chapter Five

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: Hey all. So I figured a broken arm ain't stopping me from writing this story. My finger's now fine and the concussion gone. I just wanted to say thanks for the get well wishes and stay tuned. Unfortunately, the updates won't be weekly before I can use my arm again. But here is chapter five, and please don't sue me!**

 **Chapter Five**

"Before the Order dissolved, our source thought he had discovered where the resurrection was to take place,"

"Yeah, but it'll be impossible to find him. He is somewhere in Belgium, and we don't even know his identity. Bloody hell, we don't even know if it's a _he_!"

"He is the only with knowledge of the resurrection. If Voldemort comes back to power, we can wave goodbye to humanity already. The classic Death Eaters are already piling up," Harry exclaimed and threw his hands in the air, "We have good, old Ferret there as an example,"

"If you were Voldy, where would you want to be brought back to life? I mean, the Death Eaters wouldn't resurrect him in a Muggle home or any insignificant place, either..."

Hermione watched amused as the two wizards discussed, not a moment of silence hanging in the air. Suddenly, Ron let out a string of curses. "How bloody difficult can life be?"

Hermione only sat on the sideline smiling, having no idea about what they were talking about. It amused her, how Ron's red hair flamed up along with his ears, how his blue eyes were lit with an ever-burning flame. His cloak fluttered, obviously too wide and too short for his tall and skeleton-like figure. Harry had stopped straightening his askew glasses too, after a few arguments.

A day ago, they'd 'Apparated' out of the enchanted, dark forest with the werewolf. She'd just recently got common with the term Apparate, but she still hated the way her stomach lurked and the world became disfigured when they did.

At the moment, they had settled in the outskirts of a small Muggle village. She was happy that nobody had noticed their obvious settlement just beyond a pair of trees, only a walk away from the first hut, very much like her own.

"Who is Voldemort anyway?" Hermione finally piped in. She noticed how the atmosphere went from a distressed, but friendly discussion to a dark, cold bubble of sorts. Two pair of orbs were directed at her, both containing a smear of pain, fear and something indescribable.

The silence was unnerving. She offered them a shy smile, obvious that she had said something wrong, something that woke up unforgettable memories. On the contrary to her beliefs, Harry spilled, "Voldemort...he was the darkest wizard that has ever lived. He enjoyed killing, torturing. He was inhuman, that's what he was,"

"He killed uncountable amounts of people, both Muggle, witches and wizards. Everyone that was against him was suffering. But...we managed to defeat him. Now, his faithful followers–" Ron paused and swallowed, "–the Death Eaters, they're going to resurrect him...a second time,"

Hermione blinked, a blank look ruling her facial features, "He's going to kill all of us? Even the Muggles?"

Ron opened his mouth, but closed it again, his eyes flickering to the ground, "He is," the statement made the nervous lump in her stomach bite her, "He, that Malfoy monster, was going to kill me, wasn't he?" she didn't need a reply to realize that she could have been dead, hadn't it been for the two wizards she shared a tent with.

"How will you find him? You source, from Belgium?"

"We don't know yet. It was meant to be impossible to find him, in case of the Death Eaters tracked our owls... I have no idea," Ron scoffed.

Again, silence ruled among them.

Suddenly, something clicked in Hermione's mind. The excitement made her tongue burn and her hopes rise higher than the sky. "How many wizards do you believe live in Belgium?"

Harry stared at questioningly, doubt coating his words as he slowly answered, "About a hundred, I believe. After the Belgium massacre last summer, most of them fled from the country... A hundred, maybe less..?" his statement faded away.

Hermione jumped to her feet. A smile exploded on her face, her warm chocolate eyes lighting up like stars. Unknown to her, a flame of passion burned in her orbs as she frantically searched for their leather bag, the one with infinite room inside it.

"Do you have a directory? A telephone directory?" she asked in a second of bewilderment.

"A...a what?" Ron exclaimed, "What the bloody hell is a tellyphone directory?"

"Telephone," Hermione corrected. Her two friends stared back at her blankly, one because of the unknown term, the other because of the random request. "You don't know what a telephone is? You're joking...right?" Harry looked puzzled, but Ron's face was still tainted with the same blank expression. She couldn't help but stifle a giggle. "You. Don't. Know. You literally don't know what a telephone is?" she broke into a full-blown laughing fit. Water pressed through her tear canals, blurring the world surrounding her.

She felt weak in her knees as Ron leaned closer to Harry and loudly muttered, "I think she's off her rocker," The force of the laughter made her sit down. When it faded, it still tickled in the back of her throat.

"I think we need to take a trip to the village here," she concluded. Harry stared at her, the shock of her sudden laughing fit wearing off. His eyebrows met in a confused frown, "Why do we need a telephone directory? I mean, our source probably doesn't have a phone,"

"Exactly. I highly doubt your wizard friend has a phone, considering he is as oblivious that you are about technology and Muggle devices. We just have to find a person that doesn't have a phone!"

Ron dumbfounded stared at them, confusion painted in his eyes. His cloak was wrinkled and he had one eyebrow raised. His innocent blue eyes burned on the back of her eyelids. She smiled began explaining to them, "In the telephone directory, everyone are listed. If we find the Belgium catalogue, we can skim through all those without a phone," she paused and was rewarded by genuine interest, "In the directory, all people are listed. Both the home address and phone number is written in it, but if the person doesn't have a phone, there will only be the home address, and then we can contact them,"

Hermione felt the blood creep up her cheeks as Ron complemented her, "That's brilliant! You're bloody brilliant!"

She didn't dare to look him in the eyes. "And I bet your secret informant will recognize you, am I right?"

Harry nodded and Ron repeated, his ears red as blood, "You're bloody brilliant, 'Mione!"

Hermione smiled. It felt like the smile pulled a thread in her, which made her inside pricking with excitement. Harry chuckled as Ron's ears turned redder than ever. His cheeks became tinged with pink as Hermione remarked, "And watch your language, Ron. Or else the Queen of England may take away your permission to call me 'Mione,"

And with that, Harry broke into a laughing fit too. His laughter echoed in her ears as her eyes locked with Ron's and he muttered, "I think he's off his rocker,"


	6. Chapter Six

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: Sadly, nobody appreciated the last chapter, but I do understand, as it was a rather dull filler. But here we go again, please review!**

 **Chapter Six**

The market in town was big and eventful. From all corners, people were shouting and advertising about their items. The villagers were roaming the shops. A group of children were happily ogling some toys while their parents were picking vegetables from the nearby stand. The three friends on the run blended in perfectly after the two wizards had 'transfigured' their clothing into looking similar to a Muggle's. Everybody seemed harmless and blissful. Well, that was, if you didn't count Ron.

Considering him being a wizard and the fact that his kin was not-too-liked by Muggles, Hermione could dish up with some understanding, but he was taking 'nervous' to a whole new level.

For an outsider, Ron looked like an average nerve wreck. To Hermione, he looked like a study in fear. His ocean, baby-blue eyes were constantly flickering from one Muggle to another, wide open and on alert. His brows were knotted in concentration, of what he was focusing on was beyond Hermione's understanding. His lips were pursed into a thin line.

He was walking stiffly, his back rather bent, as if he was trying to make himself look small. He wore a black hoodie, and Hermione had used hours trying to pursue him to lift down the hood, explaining that he'd only look even more suspicious. At that statement, it looked like he was going to break down and cry, but his face only revealed a quiver in his lower lip.

Not like she looked at his lips...very often.

Apart from that, the only thing that would've captured Muggles' attention was how his right hand was permanently stuffed in his pocket. It might've looked innocent to any other person, but Hermione knew he was clutching his wand like it depended on his life.

"Are we there yet?" Harry said, discomfort only leaking through his eyes, unlike Ron. He had told her a piece of his past, revealing that he was a 'half-blood', somebody who'd usually lived like a Muggle before knowing he or she was a Magical. After telling her about his Muggle life, he completely shut down as they went deeper into the life after he found out about his wizard blood. Hermione didn't need to ask Ron, though, as his discomfort screamed one hundred percent wizard.

Hermione smiled reassuringly, "Nope, but we'll probably be there in no time,"

"You've said that five times now. _Please_. Just tell me how–" Ron's voice, which tended to crack now and then, was cut off by Hermione's squeal.

"Here!" she was acting on impulse as she grabbed Ron's hand and rushed forward, him in tow. He let out a surprised gasp before running to her side. Harry observed as the colour in her face slowly changed from pale, to a deep red. Ron's ears had also caught a fair bit of blood-red colour.

Harry glanced at them, a smile engraved in his face, as Hermione let go of Ron's hand as if it was a disease. They stopped dead in their tracks before their eyes locked and Hermione stuttered an apology. Ron smiled at her in return, the blazing colour in his ears spreading to his cheeks.

Hermione lifted her gaze and was met with the dark brown, deeply ornamented door of a shop with dusty, huge windows. The engraving 'JACK OF ALL TRADES' was scribbled over the door, next to an indecipherable, older writing.

A bell rang as Harry pushed the door open. Ron jumped, but he immediately breathed out in relief. His whole figure seemed more relaxed inside the small shop.

A man stepped forward between racks on racks filled with books, ancient toys and other goods coated in a layer of dust. A desk stood in the middle of the room, where the man stood. His face was wrinkly like old clothes that had been stored for a generation. The colour of age-old dust looked like it had discoloured his face, from hours he'd spent in the store. A few wrinkles appeared in the corner of his eyes when he rasped, "How may I help you?"

Hermione smiled back as she felt something soft touch her hand, "We're looking for a phone directory," she started and gasped at the sudden movement that sent lightening up her arm, "One from Belgium, preferably a newer one,"

Her chocolate brown eyes flashed down to the soft hand that had captured hers. Hermione recognized the long scar embedded in his palm. The curiosity awakened in her. How had Ron gotten that scar? But more importantly, why had he taken her hand? His blue orbs were glued to the floor, his face unreadable and frozen.

"Ah... I've been waiting to get rid of all those useless items for ages," the old man interrupted her thought row. Nobody doubted that the old man had waited for ages.

He hurried inside his labyrinth of random objects. Minutes later, he arrived with a thick book. Hermione squeezed Ron's hand reassuringly before she let go and received the directory. "How much?" she opened her palm with the Muggle money, glinting in the dim light.

The wrinkled man leaned forward and observed them with wide eyes. "For such a beautiful lady, it is free. I only ask for a small favour..." it looked like his eyeballs were about to fall off his raisin-like face. It took all of Ron's might not to crush the man to bits.

He moved faster than the man could process, and in the span of a few seconds, the old paedophile stood face-to-face with a tall, furious Ron Weasley. "If you touch as much as a hair on her head, you won't live to see tomorrow,"

The old, wrinkled face lessened up and his dust-grey eyes widened in shock. Hermione was afraid his heart would betray him. A warm spot in her heart opened for her flame-haired companion as he turned around and hissed, "We're leaving,"

Harry looked after them with shock pulsating in his veins. That was something he hadn't expected, from Ron nonetheless. He stood there silently before the wheezing of the old man set speed in him and he disappeared after the others.

Despite the mark Ron had left behind on the shop owner, his attitude changed simultaneously as he came out under open sky again. The shaking, unsecure wizard in a foreign Muggle land was back, and the warmth Hermione's hand had left in his palm had gradually lost to the cold.

 **End Chapter Six**

 **A/N: Omg, I'm most likely moving away from my parents and family. I am so stressed, I'm only 16 (well, I feel like I will die of starvation already)! Omg... anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated! What did you guys think of today's taste of Romione?**


	7. Chapter Seven

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: FYI, the secret Order agent in Belgium is (probably) British, so most of the names are British, even if that doesn't make sense. I apologize, Belgium people!**

 **A/N: For those who are wondering what year this is set in, that'd be completely up to you to choose. Apparently, something is a lot different from J K Rowling's universe, where Hermione has been helping them all along. If you have been picking up the traces of a dark past in this far, you'll understand that a terrible thing has happened and sent everybody over the edge. For those who didn't notice the traces, don't worry, I love you anyway.**

 **Chapter Seven**

"Ben Harvey Harlington," Hermione stated in the bored tone they'd gotten so used to. She had miraculously gone through most of the names in the directory, sorting out those who had a phone number and tapping her nail at the people missing one. "Ben Harvey Harlington," Hermione repeated and tapped her pink nail against the yellowed page, the sharp tone of her voice snapping Ron out of his zone-out.

"Write the name down on the paper, please," she said, her voice no sharper than the edge of a razor blade. She couldn't resist rolling her eyes at Ron as he yawned.

"Ben Harshly Hamilton, you said?" he muttered. The sound of a quill on paper spread out in their camping site. She wondered why they didn't use a pen, like any average human being would've done.

The bushy-haired teen and the flame-haired wizard were sitting on a sleeping bag under a big tree. The sunshine seemed to get caught in Ron's hair and eyes, making the features stand out in an angelic glow. His black robes set a stop to the heavenly perspective Hermione got of him under their ancient, huge tree. As a squawking raven left a branch further towards the blue sky, a pair of green leaves came swirling down at them, one landing on the directory, the other falling softly onto Ron's hair.

"I _said_ Ben Harvey Harlington," she smiled. Everything felt like it was taken from a fairytale. "Hold on. Just...stand still,"

Hermione had to force her eyes not to wander over his face as she stretched out and reached the fragile, green leaf that sat proudly on his head. A smile swept over her lips as she flicked the leaf out of his hair. She was frozen in her stance as she watched it approach the ground in slow motion. His sky blue eyes stared at her as the piece of green swished past him. Ron puffed after it, sending it on a carousel ride down to the earth.

Figuring she'd been standing there for too long, she quickly plopped down onto the sleeping bag again and resumed reading through the names. A small ache had settled at her temples and the sensation of being in such a close proximity to Ron made her ability of thoughts cut off completely. She let her finger travel down to the end of the page.

"Maybe we should take a break? I'm tired of writing down names and I bet you'd kill to stop searching through the names in that endless list of names," Ron uttered and peered over her shoulder. "In addition, I think I'll get blood poisoning from all this ink,"

Ron held up his hands to her and she could feel the laughter bubble just below the surface of her mind, making her tongue tickle following with a gracious smile.

A raven screeched overhead. The leaves were raining over them like crystal raindrops. The velvety surface made her feel like nature was stroking her with soft hands as they brushed her skin. She could feel goosebumps break out on her forearms. It was not because of the temperature.

"What did you do before I met you?" the question blurted out of her, "I mean...where you were?"

Ron's eyebrows furrowed and she felt dense for asking. "Like, before-before or... That came out stupid," a second, their gazes met, the next, both of them were rolling forward with mirth.

He tried again, "You want to know what I did before I joined Harry on this giddy camping trip business?"

"No," Hermione deadpanned, "I want to know what happened to you before I got involved with–"she flung out with her arms, "–all of this,"

He laughed. A melodious chuckle that seeped into her ears thick like honey. The sweet undertone in his voice could've been mistaken for humming hadn't it been for the smile that was sewn into the sound. It felt as if there were a million colours exploding within the boundaries of a chuckle, tinting Hermione's day a few shades lighter. The colour burst in her cheeks as she realized she actually _liked_ it.

His laughter died out and he let his eyes rest on a place in front of them that only he saw. His smile faded away along with the sparkle in his ocean eyes. She wondered what laid in the depths of those pools, if they were as innocent as they looked.

"I don't know what you want to know," his voice came out weird, like someone had strangled the in-sewn melody that always rang in her ears. "I don't know where to start,"

He turned to her, his face blank and eyes sharp, "Where do you want me to start?"

Hermione didn't need time to think of a question. It burned on her lips the moment she let the air carry out the words. Immediately, she bit her lip. Hard. She sounded disrespectful. The rusty taste spread from underneath her teeth, but she quietly ignored it and peered at Ron with an apology scorching her tongue. The question hung in the air like a dead body.

"Where's your family?"

His face paled. His orange hair and freckles contrasted deep with his white complexion. "My family?"

Hermione let her eyes wander to the ground, "You don't have to answer. I–"

"My family's hiding," he said, "or that's what they were doing the last time I saw them,"

Her curiosity flared, "When was that?"

A weak smile grazed his lips as he muttered, "About a year or two ago. After my brother...deceased...they have been quite over-protecting of the last members in our family,"

"Then why aren't you with them?"

His reply was short and simple. It sparked the curiosity in her heart, "If I don't do this, they'll all be dead anyway,"

A silence spread between them. It was heavy and rested on her shoulders and head like an iron curtain. She had to break it. She fidgeted with the sleeves of her orange sweater, which made her gentle brown eyes stand out. "Why?" she said curtly, "why?"

He looked dazzled by the question. "Why are they hiding?"

"As you perhaps already know," Ron began, sounding like he was ten years older than he was. Their eyes locked, his ocean eyes were deep pools tainted with the colour of the blue, blue sky, and hers were chocolate brown with a tint of orange by the pupil, "after the Muggle Ministry found out about the wizard kind, our own Ministry of Magic began disbanding in the seams. Our already corrupt ministry fell under yours' pressure, but it only led to..." he trailed off.

"Even if the ministry falls, there will still be wizards and witches around, even if you decide to massacre half of us. When the ministry falls, you lose the last strand of control over us. Chaos ensued and the Muggles began the hunt on their own,"

"I remember," Hermione cut him off, "history class,"

"That's why," he whispered. Hermione felt sorry for him, the feeling of regret growing from a place in her heart. Being a Muggle sounded a lot easier than being a Magical. She had never been able to see their point of view on the whole revolt between the Muggles and the Magical. History class didn't allow matter like that.

"If you don't mind me asking... How did your brother die?"

Ron's ears turned red in a room of a few seconds, "Of course I bloody mind! You can stop being so fucking nosy all the time, it's annoying! Bloody hell!"

She felt like he had slapped her. Hermione was taken aback by his sudden outburst, not prepared at all. It felt like he'd stabbed her heart with a thousand knives, and then proceeded by cracking it with his bare knuckles. She could feel tears building up behind her eyes.

"Take me home!" the crystal clear tears were running down her cheeks, "it's your own fault I'm here and not at home. I want to go home! Now,"

Ron's eyes turned into slits, "Gladly!"

The directory laid face down in the mud. Brown goof was splayed across the pages. The ravens had stopped squawking a long time ago. The ancient tree that grew the green, soft leaves didn't seem as idyllic anymore.

Ron grabbed her hand roughly. The scar embedded in his palm made her shudder. Without a warning, the feeling of being pushed and pulled attacked her. A feeling of someone peeling off her skin engulfed her. The world turned black before various colours began dancing in front of her.

Abruptly, she found herself in the middle of a small, wooden hut in the woods. Rotten vegetables were scattered across the floor. The furniture was collected in a heap in the middle of the room. All the windows were shattered, small crystals of glass decorating the wooden floor. The door stood wide open. Her hut – her home – had been left in chaos.

The icy feeling of cold bit her skin and she felt her eyes burning with unshed tears. She fell back on a lone chair in hard wood and the tears spilled. Her heart lay in two pieces in her chest as she let the sobs rack her body violently.

 **Chapter End Note**

 **A/N: A long chapter for you awesome readers and reviewers! What do you think about their fight? Poor Hermione, right?**


	8. Chapter Eight

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers! Reaching twenty was a big achievement for me (thanks to Guest, who reviewed as number twenty)! I've realized how lucky I am to have you. I hope you like all future chapters. And for those interested; my arm's much better now, so the updates will be rather frequent. For now, enjoy!**

 **Chapter Eight**

Something soft brushed against Hermione's cheek. Her tears from last night had dried slowly and her muscles were stiff from sleeping in a hard, wooden chair. The feeling of something soft as a feather returned on her cheek. She could feel the soft finger following the streaks of dried tears as it slowly dissipated from her face. Hermione found herself moving closer to its warmth.

"I'm sorry," she heard someone whisper, a tiny mumble barely loud enough to hear, but loud enough for her eyes to flutter open with surprise.

Hermione almost jumped at the sight that greeted her. Ron, with his wild, untamed flame-red mane stood only a step away from her. His baby blue eyes were locked with hers. They were wide and his pupils were slightly dilated as a result of the dim light. She realized it was still night. The stars blinked at her from the opposite side of the broken window. Ron's eyes, she noticed, almost glowed like a cat's in the dark. She caught a glimpse of his hands, one clutched in the other, the pink scar embedded in his palm visible from her distance.

"What are you doing here, _Ron_?" the name felt foreign in her mouth, dripping with malice, "I thought you didn't want me at your camp?"

He looked taken aback at her response, like he'd expected her to forgive him without a second thought. Boys were ignorant, all of them thinking an 'I'm sorry' was enough after an argument. On Hermione, it worked by making her more infuriated with him.

"Can't you just leave me alone if you hate me so much, _Ron_?" the name sent a spark of regret to her stomach, where a knot began forming. Looking at his downfallen face, she almost wished she hadn't said that. Almost.

"I- I'm sorry, 'Mione –"

"Don't call me that," she cut him off. A look she'd never seen on him before occupied his freckled complexion. His face had changed from a weak, self-reassuring smile to a thin line. Now, it seemed like he'd given up his attempt on optimism, and fallen victim to his own self-doubt. His eyes fell onto the floor. He'd let his hands fall at his sides as well like he didn't have any power in them anymore.

"I..." he was at a loss of words. By a simple sentence, she'd cut off his vocabulary. He swallowed hard where he stood. She felt the pity creep up from behind. She'd always known that her weakness was her sympathy. She felt the regret crush all her desires of keeping the argument going.

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled, stumbling over the word. It echoed in her mind. The regret backed off a little, suppressed by her suddenly growing rage. The rage she'd directed towards herself for being a foolish school girl that couldn't keep her apologies to herself.

Like a man changing masks, Ron's face suddenly lit up with shock. "What did you say?" he stuttered.

" _You know what I said_ ," Hermione hissed at him like a snake. His eyebrows rose up in his hairline and a smile grew on his lips. The shocked expression turned into an evident humoured look. The strange emotion swirling around in his ocean blue pools disappeared, along with the fallen attitude.

"Thanks, 'Mione – I mean...Hermione," his voice held an insecure waver, like he expected her to lung at him like some animal.

She scratched her head awkwardly before correcting him, "'Mione," finding her voice sharper than intended, she added warmly, "I think 'Mione is good,"

The tight expression she had wore was now completely gone, stating clearly that they were on better terms. His eyes sparkled at her and sent her an askew smile. It made a lively flame erupt in her cheeks and forced her to turn her head in embarrassment.

The two stood there in silence before Hermione gestured with her hand towards her broken furniture, "Do you mind?" the sentence brought back the scene under the ancient, green-leaved tree and she flinched.

Fortunately, he waved her off and pulled out his wand from his pocket. It looked smooth and the fibres in the magical item shimmered as he casted a spell, pronounced in Latin, " _Repairo,_ "

She watched enthralled as the sharp, jagged pieces of glass set themselves together into the window, looking like it hadn't been touched. It reminded her of the time she lived together with her parents, when they'd shown her a video of glass being broken in slow motion. The only difference was that this was played backwards, the few pieces left glinting in the pale light from the half-moon outside.

The furniture returned to its chosen place and state it had been before the fateful visit by the vandals. The rotten vegetables were removed by a simple spell that sent blue sparks emitting from the tip of his wand. She watched with a growing amusement as the room was sent back in time, everything looking untouched. She didn't realize her jaw had dropped.

"I didn't realize magic was this...this _beautiful_ ," she mused. Ron listened with a chuckle.

"It can be more beautiful," Ron croaked.

"Can you show me?" Hermione's eyes lit up, "That would be so cool!"

"Any day," answered Ron and held out his hand. She stepped forward and took his hand. For a moment, it reminded her of a scene from Cinderella. That was until they 'Apparated', as the whirling colours swooned together and forces around her pushed and pulled her into the dark.

With an ear-splitting _crack_ , they had returned to the place she'd never thought she'd return to. The ancient, thick trunk of the tree stood proud upon a carpet of grass. The half-moon peered at them from behind the clouds, causing illuminations all around them. She felt trapped – no, more _willingly_ trapped – inside a magical bubble. The moon cast shadows over a thick book lying pages-down in the dirt. Picking it up and examining the harm done, Hermione sighed.

A hand carefully pushed her back as it stole her book. A _Scourgify_ later and the page was set back into its clean, yellowed self. Hermione didn't need to exaggerate as she determined that she was utterly _amazed_ by magic's work.

She found herself wondering what magic could do in the right hands.

However, she found herself thinking about whether the Magicals' or the Muggles' hands were the right. She understood that the paper world she'd built around herself, where everything was black or white, had begun to crumble. She found herself challenging her beliefs, but an answer was impossible to find. Hermione decided that it may be best if she didn't think anymore about it.

She and Ron were friends again, and that's all that mattered.

 **A/N: So entertaining to write this chapter! I love describing Ron through Hermione's eyes, how blue his eyes are and how colourful his hair is. I assumed you've all realized she doesn't care much about Harry yet haha. I didn't read over this chapter, so I take the blame for all mistakes. A penny for your thoughts?**


	9. Chapter Nine

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: A quick update for you! You guys are the best! 27 reviews! That's awesome! I love you and thanks for taking the time to write nice words. It's endlessly appreciated. I hope you'll continue the trend:)**

 **Chapter Nine**

The smell of beans in tomato sauce drifted towards Hermione as she lay awake in her sleeping bag. The morning light hit the walls in the tent, creating heat that barely reached her cheek. Yawning, Hermione got out of her – Ron's – sleeping bag and strolled over to Ron, whose hands were working furiously on their breakfast.

He didn't bother to greet her as he mumbled down in the beans, "The food supplies are rather sparse at the moment, so don't expect gourmet of me today,"

Hermione laughed. His food was good, but she didn't think that high of his cooking. He eyed her with fake hurt, taking an artificial blow to his cooking pride, "We'll have to get food soon. The last supplies may barely give us dinner today, if not less,"

"Is it possible to shop in a nearby Muggle village, or will they be suspicious of us?" she asked, the seriousness tinting the tone of her voice. Ron shuddered by the thought of visiting shops among Muggles. The last time he'd been in a Muggle city, the tour had only been in and out of one shop. When they would collect enough supplies for the next month, he doubted that they'd only visit one.

"I hope they are," Ron shivered. She remembered how he'd been a shivering nerve wreck the last time. He had to hold a deep, grave grudge against them if he was _that_ terrified.

Something that had escaped her notice suddenly dawned on her, "Where's Harry?"

Ron shrugged it off, "I think he went out to check on the protection charms,"

Hermione nodded and disappeared through the tent exit. Harry was sitting by the tree with the telephone directory in his lap. At first, it looked like he was looking through the names they'd written on the paper and double checking them in the directory, but when she got closer, that wasn't the case. Apparently, he _had_ been sitting like that.

Harry was clutching his head, obviously in pain. His eyes were clenched together and his mouth pressed into a fine line. His knuckles rapidly turned white, and he uttered a moan. Whether or not it was a migraine or something more serious was impossible to say. "Ron!" Hermione called. Ron came sprinting out of the tent the second she'd shouted his name.

"What is–" he began, but cut himself off mid-sentence, "Bloody, no!"

Lunging forward, he was crouched down by Harry faster than lightening. "Harry," he said in a soft voice, "Harry?"

Harry's hands seemed to ease on the grip of his head, letting the blood flow through his knuckles once again, "It's Volde–" Ron's hand flew over his mouth, effectively erasing the rest of the sentence. Harry apologized weakly, "'S right, cursed name,"

He started, "You-Know-Who is searching for our Belgian source. He...he's killing, torturing people, Ron," Harry stood up, but Ron forced him down again. A feeling of dread ran through Hermione, "We have to stop him," She wondered how a duo of youths would take down a murderer who has vicious Death Eaters at his hand, and especially how the two had come in that situation.

"Harry," Ron repeated, "We have to destroy the Horcruxes first. After we've done that, then we'll kill him. We're on a mission, Harry. We'll die if we try to take him down now,"

Harry nodded slowly and the grip on his head lessened. He let his hands fall down in his lap. Hermione didn't like the sound of the name 'Horcruxes'. It sent another spark of dread in the pit of her stomach. "I think we should start our search for the Belgian guy,"

" _If_ it is a guy," Hermione piped in, relieved that she at least understood parts and pieces of what they were saying.

The askew smile that was so typical Ron, spread across his features. He shuddered slightly and pushed at the food issue, "I think we should gather food first, since I bet there'd be Death Eaters 'round every corner in the towns down there,"

Hermione searched her memory. Death Eaters...they were evil and were out to kill her two friends. Probably her too, "Why are Death Eaters evil?" the question plopped out of her.

She was met with two pairs of raised eyebrows, "What is _not_ evil with Death Eaters?"

"Well," her thoughts raced, "I have no idea,"

The two looked utterly astonished before they began talking and persuading her over each others' voices, each argument more shrill and loud than the last.

"They are pure-blood extremists,"

"They're supporting You-Know-Who,"

There was a pause where they stared at her intently, "They torture and kill because they want a bloody world disaster,"

"Yeah, and they want to kill all Muggles, Muggleborn and Half-Bloods," Ron added in a wicked voice, "They want a bloody world with only magical blood,"

Hermione's brows furrowed. Their response was quite overwhelming, and it didn't help that she didn't understand all the terms. Ron's ears had gone red as he'd voiced the last argument. She pressed a weak smile to her lips, but it dissolved before it should've appeared, "What are Muggleborns and Half-Bloods?"

Ron remained silent as Harry explained, "A Magical who is born by Muggle parents is a Muggleborn, and often considered unworthy of magic by Purebloods. A Half-Blood has one Muggle and one magical parent. A Pureblood usually has a long line of two Magical parents, grandparents...you get it,"

"That's outrageous!" Hermione exclaimed, "To be discriminated because of your blood!" A thought suddenly penetrated her mind, "What is your blood status?"

Harry answered immediately, "I'm a Half-Blood. Ron's a Pureblood,"

Hermione felt rage creep up her spine as she out of a sudden swung her palm at Ron's cheek. A slap cut sharply through the air like a bullet. An angry red welt slowly appearing on his freckly skin. Ron's sky blue eyes were wide open. The tension in the air built up, but Harry broke the silence before it could get worse, "Ermm...Hermione," she looked up, a blush coating her cheeks, "Ron doesn't do that..."

Hermione stared at Ron, who was trying to resist touching the red bruise on his cheek. Her chocolate brown eyes widened and her mouth fell open slightly. "Oh,"

Everybody stood frozen in their steps as Hermione stared at Ron, and Ron stared surprised back, disbelief staining his features. Then, Hermione leapt forward and embraced him in a warm hug, "I'm so sorry, Ron! I don't know what came over me! I'm so, _so_ sorry!"

His chest was warm and she felt his chin touch her temple. Her arms were locked around his waist. She could feel a hint of muscle, but she knew he was more on the lanky side. His arms hesitantly closed around her as well, making her face explode in red.

They may have hugged a little too long, as Hermione heard Harry giggle behind them. At the sound, both of them jumped a little and broke out of the hug. She felt like her eyes had weights on them. She didn't dare look up at him, in case he'd notice the colour that engulfed her skin.

"You know, I can hunt. Maybe I'll teach you two, and we can stay away from the towns?" she said, and she saw Ron shift, visibly adoring the idea of hunting rather than shopping among Muggles.

 **A/N: Thank you for reviewing. The one who hits the thirty mark will get a cookie!**


	10. Chapter Ten

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: Here's an update for you guys! A long wait, but I hope it was worth it. The cookie is dedicated to** _ **thatwitch64,**_ **who posted the amazing number thirty review!**

 **Chapter Ten**

Their dinner was lousy, even with Ron's extraordinary skill to produce illegible food. It didn't hold the usual colourful smell or the exotic flavours he always managed to tint it with. It tasted boring and didn't look any more appetizing with its grey and pale brown colour. Even Ron seemed to lack his colour as he sent her an askew smile that only seemed to deepen the paleness in his skin. His freckles stood out like blood drops on snow.

She didn't even know what she was eating.

Harry sent her a meaningful expression from where he sat on his and Ron's shared sleeping bag. Both sat stiffly and nobody dared to start a conversation. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.

Harry's face twisted into a disgusted grimace. Predictably, he opened his mouth to comment the food, but Hermione quickly collected her wits and the words tumbled out of her mouth in an uncontrollable manner.

"What are your favourite colours?" the question made her cringe. How utterly pathetic is it possible to become? There was a reason that she didn't like being spontaneous, but she somehow knew that Harry's comment would lead to an argument, hence the thick tension that hung in the air.

Ron's eyes flickered in her direction, an astonished look etched onto his face, "Colours?"

"Colours," she repeated, inwardly kicking herself for asking the stupid question in the first place.

Surprisingly, Harry followed her lead and answered momentously, "Red," he laughed, "Gryffindor pride, of course,"

"Gryffindor? Who's that?" Hermione asked confusedly. She recognized the term from a previous conversation, but she couldn't quite place it.

While he had remained still as a statue before, Harry was now crouched over his knees laughing. His laughter, that suddenly made the food more colourful in taste, rung in the tent.

"She–" Harry began and choked through a series of chuckles, "–she doesn't have a clue what Gryffindor is!" A second, both Harry's and Ron's gazes met and they both went completely silent before both of them let out a string of giggles and gasped after air unbelievingly, all while Hermione sat still and watched in amazement as they slowly returned to their stoic states once again.

"What do you even learn in your 'History Classes'?" Ron snorted sarcastically. His cheeks were evidently tinted with the colour of crimson blood.

Hermione felt the dread rise in her chest. They had no idea how the Magicals were portrayed in her books. She didn't want to tell them how they were seen as malicious, blood-thirsty devils in a human's skin. Scratch that, they weren't even seen as _humans_.

Especially, she didn't want to tell them that she had believed that _they_ were those killercreatures. They were the two who had set those perspectives in a new light. But deep down she knew that there was still a trace of doubt. A trace of her old beliefs that the wand-wielding Magicals had to be monsters.

"Ermm…" there was an awkward pause.

Lucky for her, Harry broke the silence and once again saved her from her self-inflicted embarrassment, "You said you could hunt?"

The dark feeling of dread that had consumed her mind immediately lifted and a warm smile sprang to her lips. "I can!" she exclaimed, perhaps a bit too excited, "Do you want me to teach you?"

To her right, Ron shuddered visibly, "As long as we're far away from those…those _bloody_ Muggles!"

Harry looked at the distasteful food on his plate, "Maybe you'll be nice enough to teach us now? The food–" Ron sent him a glare that could pulverize stone. "It was very…extraordinary," he finished lamely, watching Ron's face soften.

His lips drew into an askew grin and a dimple appeared in his cheek. Hermione couldn't remember it being there from before. She was suddenly caught by the sudden urge to pinch his cheeks. Ron looked cute sitting there, a half-empty plate in his lap and an expression that screamed 'please take me with you'. Overall, he looked slightly like an eager puppy that waited outside the door to get outside.

"Come on, then," she waved them closer and exited the tent. The thin material fluttered as they lined up outside it. The darkness had barely touched the sky. The clouds were painted a flaming orange, strangely reminding her of Ron's locks.

Harry scratched his head awkwardly, "How exactly are we going to hunt? We don't have a gun or any other weapons we can use. In addition, I don't think using our wands would be a good idea, considering we're going to eat the enchanted thing,"

This time, it was Ron who wore the confused look. The sky set his red hair ablaze in the auburn light, "What's a gun?"

Harry shook his head, and replied, miraculously in tune with Hermione, "Never mind,"

"Do you have a pocket knife?" she asked. Before she could say 'werewolf', Ron handed her a glinting knife. It shimmered with silver as their hands touched. Sparks travelled all the way from where his fingertips had met her skin and up to her head, making her dizzy.

She wondered if a Muggle became too exposed by a Magical's magic, there'd be side effects. A thought tugged at her mind, pointing out that it only happened when she came close to Ron, but she brushed it away.

She was definitely not beginning to take a liking to Ron.

Once again, a voice presented itself in her mind, telling her she wasn't 'beginning to take a liking', but more 'developing the liking further' _. As if it even exists_ , she snorted back.

Pulling a branch from a tree, she began cutting its roots that connected it to the trunk. The fresh smell of spring quivered in the air around her. Old memories resurfaced as she was suddenly pulled back into her own hut in the wood. The refreshing smell of pines and newly baked bread mixed with the distinct sense of spring made her feel more alive than ever.

Then, the illusion shattered and she was jerked back into reality, where she was stranded in a never-stay-too-long-in-one-place, pathetic camp she shared with two boys in a cramped tent.

The pocket knife dug into the bark of the tree. She figured out that she must have hacked at it rather maliciously, as both Ron and Harry looked at her with surprise written on their faces.

Hermione shrugged and went in for another deadly stab on the tree when Ron stepped forward and lightly laid his hand on her shoulder. Her tensed-up shoulders sagged and she let Ron continue her work.

He gently took a hold on the knife and forced it out of the tree it was embedded into. When it was free, he causally waved his wand and muttered an incantation. A purple and silver light was shot at the twig. A gasp escaped her as it crashed to the ground, a clean cut forcing it to let go of the trunk. He picked up the stick, whereas the clean-cut end still glowed a faint purple. Her hand locked in his as he offered her to take it.

The spark ran up her arm like a thousand ants. A bubble of joy engulfed her as an involuntary smile grew on her lips. His baby blue eyes stared at her like a puppy expecting a pet on the head. She let out a giggle as he – with his tall frame – walked into a branch neither of them had noticed before. He scratched the offending place and flashed her a smile, a warm pink burning in his cheeks.

How she wanted to pinch those cheeks!

He watched with innocent eyes as she whittled the stick until all was left was an ivory twig. Ron raised his eyebrows, "Why did you whittle it? It doesn't make sense. Bloody hell, no Muggles make sense,"

Harry only chuckled by the side-lines, suddenly guiding his own knife against a newfound branch.

A minute, a quarter, then an hour flew, and the ivory twig had been transformed into a wonderful bow. A white string bent the two ends together. The bow was completed. Ron beamed proudly, making all the worries in the world swirl together and evaporate.

"Now, we'll have to make the arrows. Harry, remember to only use the straight ones!" she advised. Harry – who had actually seen a bow before – had begun creating his own weapon, while she and Ron cooperated at a slower pace. She wouldn't have guessed how blind the wizarding world had been to Muggle inventions.

After searching every inch of the forest, the group of three had collected enough potential arrows to last a lifetime. They had each found the ideal place to sit and carve into the wooden bark of the sticks. The knives glinted in the faint sunlight, that was about to disappear below the horizon.

"Ouch!" the groan that followed made her glance up. Immediately, she wished she hadn't.

Ron had let his knife fall onto the green grass. The razor-sharp metal had splatted small drops of blood all over the green plant that covered the dirty ground like a carpet. Ron cradled his hand and winced when he peeked at it.

She could see a deep cut that stretched across two of his fingers. The blood bubbled up from his warm skin and began dripping onto the ground, creating a small puddle. He hissed as he allowed pressure onto the cut. It only resulted in smudging the blood all over his palms.

Hermione could spot the long, old scar in his palm as it gradually filled with the crimson substance.

Harry was on the spot before Hermione even thought of moving. She heard him stutter in Latin before the blood flow stopped and Ron let out a sigh. Apparently, the wound had closed up.

The blood still laid splattered across the grass. The knife was still pointing at the ground, seeping of crimson. The orange horizon had abruptly changed into a darker purple.

Beyond her understanding, everything seemed to evolve around Ron nowadays. And she especially didn't like the voice that tried to pry her into fancying him.

Of course Hermione Granger didn't fancy Ron Weasley. Her heart thumped. Maybe she wasn't so certain anymore.

 **A/N: Four pages for you! Can I ask you a question; do you think my paragraphs are too big and tiring to read? Just a thought that occurred in my mind. Please tell! Thank you!**


	11. Chapter Eleven

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: Thank you for kind response and I hope you like this chapter as well!**

 **Chapter Eleven**

She did not like him.

She did _not_ like him.

At least that's what she told herself as she felt the pleasant smell of Ron and felt his muscles moving against her skin. His blue eyes stood out like water drops in the desert. His hair burnt her doubts to crisps. Maybe she liked him a bit.

His arm shook with effort while his eyes were frozen to the target in front of them. The trees surrounded them like a carpet of green, the red painted spot on the birch before their eyes stood out like neon in a black and white photo. The string of the bow shook with concentration and pent up tension. She shivered like a leaf, her hand resting on his arm, pushing it towards the cloudy sky.

Hermione felt the warmth radiating from his skin. She could hear his ragged breaths. Inspecting his posture, she commented, "You have to lift your arm higher and stand straighter. You won't get a good aim if you can't stand right,"

Ron swallowed hard and straightened his spine. She felt a smile tugging on her lips as she noticed he stood a whole head taller than her. She put her hand around his upper arm, "Higher,"

When Hermione finally had perfected his posture, earning a "bloody hell, 'Mione", she took a step back. Harry walked beside her and they both waited for Ron to let go of the string that held the razor-sharp arrow.

He swallowed hard, his arm shaking with effort, before he finally let his fingers unwrap the tense string. The arrow split the air and was sent in a glamorous bow towards the target. It hit a nearby tree with a thick _thud_.

Ron lowered his bow and high-fived the two of them. Recently, Hermione and Harry had explained to him the Muggle trend called a 'high five'. She chuckled as she remembered his first response, "You hit each other as a sign of…success?"

"Good job, Ron!"

"Nice shot!"

His askew grin made her eyes see stars. The sky darkened as more and more clouds joined the fight of the weather gods. It was a tell-tale sign of approaching rain.

Harry's stomach rumbled. Grime covered his forehead and the headaches from earlier had shown their faces to him once more. "Sometimes, I wish I wasn't the Chosen one…" he began, mentioning another foreign term to Hermione.

Ron put a hand on his shoulder, "Harry, I know–" he cut himself off, the askew grin fading and his eyes searching the ground, "The Dark Lord's downfall was caused by you. The prophecy is about you. Not about me. Not about Fred," his voice broke and it stung Hermione's heart to hear, "Not about George. Not about anybody. It's about _you._

"We can lose, give up. But you can't. You have to go on. It's _you._ Not me, not Hermione. What would've happened if you hadn't been the Chosen? What if there was no prophecy? You're the only hope we have, Harry. You're the only one who can defeat him,

"Because you are the Chosen one, and I… The whole world would've been hopeless without you," Ron paused, "If it hadn't been for your existence, we wouldn't have fought back. The Order wouldn't have existed, and you know it,"

Harry smiled, his courage building up. He was lucky he had Ron, "Yeah, I know…" he said meekly.

Hermione, who had been busy trying to avoid intruding their conversation, raised her bow. The arrow quivered in her grip as the string became rigid. As she let it slip out of her grip, both boys followed it eagerly with their eyes. Harry's arrow was pointing out of the dark bark of the tree barely underneath the target. Ron's was embedded into a nearby birch.

A _thud_ ripped through the air as it was chucked into the middle of the target. Her two friends stared back and forth on her and her arrow, mouths agape and eyes wide.

"H-Hermione?" Ron said, "You…you're _brilliant_!"

As soon as the words were uttered, they sent thrills down her spine. The words 'brilliant' echoed in her mind and she mirrored Ron's shining smile. She was certain that he would hug her as he approached her, but the movement was cut dead in its tracks as a very angry, very human shriek pierced their ears.

"Magicals!" the shrill, feminine voice shrieked again, " _Magicals_!"

Another voice, this of a man's, replied gruffly, "I see their camp! We'll hunt them down, those monsters!"

In the span of a second, the forest was swarming with Muggles like ants. Ron had roughly pulled them backwards behind an enormous, battered rock and a dump. They didn't dare to move and their breaths were coming out ragged. The bow lay forgotten on the ground.

The blood pumped in Hermione's ears, making her imagination go wild.

The forest filled with maniac shrieks, furious shouts and the sound of burning fire. A stick broke in front of them. Hermione's heart leaped with fear.

She raised her finger to her lips, silencing them additionally. Suddenly, out of the corner of her vision, something big moved, and Hermione instantly knew something was wrong.

A yelp emitted from her lips as she jumped backwards, barely missing the long spear the big man aimed with. The end contacted with the stone, sending a screeching noise through the air. Ron and Harry hopped to their feet and set into a sprint along with Hermione.

The trio had barely escaped the ravenous man when they rounded the rock they'd hid behind. Looking up, they realized they were cornered.

Muggles surrounded them, each with a more fuming expression than the last. All of them bore a weapon. There were women with pitchforks, teenagers with burning torches, intending to scorch them. There were men with knives glinting in the dim light, and spears with ends sharp as shattered glass. It looked like they'd collected their worst household items and were ready for a fight. A man, clutching a butcher's knife in each fist, growled at them. A towering, bearded bloke stood forward in the prison they'd created for Hermione, Ron and Harry.

She could see the lethal black colour of painted metal in his hand as he jabbed the gun at them.

"Stand still, and I won't shoot," his voice was deep and grave. Silently, he added, "yet,"

A moment of silence spread in the crowd. Ron opened his mouth, his eyes sparkling with darkness and a glint of wickedness spread in his blue orbs, "We–" he began slowly, "–can kill you with only a flick of our wands. Do you really think you stand a chance?"

"I don't see you have a wand, Ginger, so I recommend you do as I say," he replied gruffly.

"We–" Ron responded immediately, but Hermione cut him off.

"We aren't here to hurt you," she started, earning their immense attention, "I, myself, am actually a Muggle, and I can assure you, these wizards aren't dangerous to you," she poured all the innocence she had into those words.

"We can't trust her. How do we know they're not controlling her with their magic? You're brainwashed, girl. Step away from the monsters and we'll free you from their evil ways…" the crowd nodded approvingly to the big man's speech.

"No, you are wro–" Hermione was cut off by a woman's shrill cry.

"She's a Magical too!"

"I'm not–" Hermione tried, but was once again interrupted by shouts from the crowd.

"Kill her, kill them all!"

"She's crazy,"

"I'll give them a painful death!"

"No, can you please–" Hermione pleaded. Her courage built up along with her anger.

"I know them, they killed my aunt!"

"Can you listen _one second_ without interrupting me?!" Surprisingly, the crowd stirred, " _Please_!"

The sudden attention seemed to swallow her courage whole, leaving her stuttering and stumbling over her words. However, as soon as she opened her mouth, she saw something glint in the light. In a rush, she was roughly pushed down on the ground, the dirt flying around her and the wind pulling her hair.

A click.

 _Bang_.

A sound of metal hitting dirt and voices screaming. Feet thundering on the grass. A groan. Not hers, but belonging to the flame-haired boy with his arms wrapped around her.

"Ron!"

In a blurry moment, Harry had gathered their bag and hastily ran to their side. His eyes were flickering nervously and his movements were shaky.

Hermione couldn't move. She couldn't drag her eyes away from Ron's pale face. Her hand was wet, a red liquid running down her palm, dripping onto her ruined sweater.

The chaos around them stilled and the shapes became deformed. A tugging sensation ripped open her heart and tugged at her inside as Harry Apparated them out of there, leaving blood and tears behind.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **Chapter Twelve**

"Do something, Harry!"

"We have to stop the bleeding!"

"Wrap this around it,"

"Oh God, he's soaked with blood,"

"Look, oh, look!"

Hermione couldn't control herself as she whirled around and vomited heavily onto the rock ground in the clearing they'd landed.

She couldn't bear it.

Ron was a mess soaked in crimson blood glimmering in the sunlight. His flaming hair seemed to have been drained of colour. His face was pale as a sheet and he vaguely reminded her of a ghost. She tried hard to grasp the fact that he could become one soon if they didn't act now and stop the bleeding.

Her breath hitched and she gulped down the urge to vomit again. The nausea washed over her.

Her throat was drier than a desert and her eyes were filled with drops of gleaming water. Streaks of dried tears ran down her cheeks. Her hands were bloody, its warmth making her feel unnerved.

The fear spiked again. Would Ron be alright?

Harry muttered darkly with an edgy voice as Latin curses slipped from between his lips. The dirt and blood on Ron's clothes vanished, but was replaced by a new flow of crimson.

A faint groan sent chills down her spine.

The groan was barely above a mumble, only reachable to Hermione's ears through intense listening and spreading adrenaline. The taste of vomit burnt her tongue.

"That was..." the hoarse voice of Ron's whispered leisurely, "...painful,"

Hermione was too shocked to react to his sudden consciousness. The bitter taste in her mouth and the imminent fear of death had made her unable to act. A fluttery feeling spread along with the overwhelming shock of Ron just being there, alive.

Further, he added muttering, "Always at the receiving end of the Muggles' harm, I see," Underneath the sarcastic laugh that coated the words, Hermione sensed a deeper pain in the soft words. He ended the sentence with a wince, bringing Hermione down to Earth once again. Harry sighed with relief behind her as she bent down next to her fallen friend in a fuzzy rush.

"Are you okay, Ron? You...you were hit with a gun! In the shoulder! Does it hurt too much? I can make Harry help with the pain if you want to," she rushed, staring motherly into his glazed-over, blue eyes. Her eyes roamed him, trying to search for injuries, but only ending with the fact that he was very lanky.

A smile grazed his lips, before faltering slightly as the pain came flooding back, "'Mione. Relax,"

"I'm so glad you're alright," she finally uttered. A blush crept up her cheeks and she inwardly wished the blood to retreat. Against her request, her cheeks slowly became rosier until they were as crimson as Ron's blood. She cringed, the nausea swimming in her head just because of the horrifying image it brought to her.

"...yeah," Ron replied with a wince, the redness creeping upon his cheeks and fiery red ears.

"Would you have done it again?" Hermione asked carefully, impressed by own control.

"Done...what again?"

Hermione radiated with heat, both from embarrassment and anxiousness. She fidgeted with the dirty hem of her orange sweater, "You know, taking the bullet for me?"

"What's a bullet?" he inquired, breaking the soft air around the two, like a stick in half.

She repeated, "If you were sent back in time, would you still have gotten hurt to...spare me?" her voice pitched at the end desperately.

Ron's glazed-over eyes hardened, "Of course I'd do that for a friend,"

Her sky-high hopes plummeted down to the scorching hot underground. Her heart broke into a million silver pieces, blending with the tear drops in the waterfalls of disappointment. Something shattered in Hermione the moment that gruesome word was uttered.

As if Ron decided to twist the knife in her heart, his voice had broken, and he repeated with a cough, "for a friend,"

Her heart, once sparking with energy and sparkling laughter, seemed to die in the same hands that had saved her. The same warmth that had engulfed her felt like spikes piercing her skin, from the inside and out. The blood in her veins cooled and stopped in its run, like a predator in the lethal jump.

In contrast to the empty feeling that drained her, her eyes pooled with tears for the second time that day. She had to swallow the urge to cry her eyes out. She wanted to claw her eyes until they were only shameful, bloody holes.

"O-ok," she finally replied, slipping the mask of carelessness back on.

Finding a way to drop the uncomfortable conversation dead, she picked up the bag and began listing all the things left behind. She sought comfort, and the only thing that could give her that feeling now, was working. Therefore, she walked onto the other side of the clearing and began her task.

Along with the tent and the sleeping bags, they were now missing all eatable food and every bread crumble. Set mildly, they were now all without shelter and hungry.

Feeling a little better, she knew they had to buy supplies in a Muggle town. She thanked herself for the bit of familiarity that would give her. To not be completely surrounded by wand-wielding monsters that had convinced her they weren't monsters. If someone asked, she'd say it was complicated.

She heard Harry approach her from behind, her crouched back to him. Ron's dramatic murmurs and groans blended in with the sounds of nature.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"What does it look like? My _friend_ –" she pronounced the hated word with malice, "–has just been hit by a bloody bullet!"

Harry sighed, "Hermione, it wasn't serious. We'll just have to pay attention so he doesn't get an infection and let him rest. A good portion of magic, and he's good as new,"

He paused and a comforting silence spread between them like butter on a slice of loaf. She almost laughed at the irony. And here they were, homeless and hungry, and she thought of loaf and butter.

Harry gulped, "And 'Mione–" the nickname felt foreign on his lips, "–I asked if _you_ were alright, not Ron,"

Hermione looked up into his emerald green eyes filled with concern.

"I know what's been going on between the two of you," he started and she searched for the non-existing accusing tone in his voice, "I've seen it. The looks, the smiles. Heck, even your eyes scream–"

"I understand!" she hastily cut him off and sent a painfully glance over at Ron sitting in a foster position, cradling his arm. Her gaze lingered a little too long, letting her take in his attractive features and flaming hair. Her heart beat loudly before it realized it was broken.

"If you wondered, I'm all in as long as you don't steal my best friend away from me completely,"

Hermione smiled awkwardly and swallowed, "T-thanks, I guess,"

Harry laughed whole-heartedly and aided Ron on the opposite side of the clearing. Hermione was left wondering how much Harry had actually noticed that she may have overseen herself.

A dwelling feeling tugged at her heart, making everything around her blur. She felt too exposed, too alone in this whole new world. It was all so overwhelming.

Blinking away newly formed tears, Hermione thought of their next move in this chess game of a lifestyle.

They had to find the source from Belgium. They had to stop the uprising of the Dark Lord. A main mission was a main mission, and a boy would not make her give up her goal.

 **End Notes**

 **A/N: I'm sorry for the long wait, social life had me in an iron grip. Reviews boost me, so feel free to give me a push in the back!**


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: Just wanted to say I appreciate every little review – a sentence or a paragraph (although I'm super-thrilled for paragraphs). Especially thanks to** _ **robdog66**_ **,** _ **gilbee, thatwitch64**_ **and** _ **JeanAndBilius**_ **(who has stuck with this story from the very beginning, and hopefully 'till the end too). I'd also like to give a big thanks to every friendly guest and other reviewer (even those who reviewed while I was busy writing this chapter).** **Here you go, chapter thirteen, everybody!**

 **Chapter Thirteen**

The moon stood high upon the black sky. It looked like it had chapped in half, the undesired part had fallen down to Earth, leaving dust that clotted together in a luminous circle around the rest. The stars had extinguished completely. The skeleton of a tree in the distance was printed on the inside of her eyelid.

Harry's murmured something indecipherable in his sleep.

"We won't wake him, 'Mione," whispered Ron in her ear, sending sparks through her mind and creating emotional clashes. She didn't know if she was over the 'friend incident' yet, but she still enjoyed his company dearly.

She sent him a sad smile and sighed. He returned the smile, catching her off-guard with his sweet askew grin.

"I miss my family at home," she began, "last time I visited them was two months ago and I just… I'm feeling guilty about it," she laughed sardonically. A sadness lingered in her voice.

Ron's grin flickered, "Me too…"

The silence filled the air pleasantly. There wasn't one sound in the entire forest that surrounded them. The clearing made her feel small as it swallowed the sound of Harry's snores.

"I wish my sister Ginny was here. She'd known what to do," muttered Ron and chortled dejectedly, "you know, she was always the favourite one. Mom always wished she had a daughter,"

Hermione listened as he continued with stormy, blue eyes glued to the ground, "Fr – Fred and George always told me she was disappointed when she found out I was the wrong gender. I was always the disappointment. Always,"

The word hung lonely in the air and Hermione sensed his uneasiness.

A bitter edge sneaked up in his tearing voice, "Bill and Charlie were successes with their meaningful work. Bill was hard living up to, with his work at Gringotts and his position as Head Boy at Hogwarts,"

Hogwarts.

The word triggered something in her mind, bringing back pictures and truths from her history books. The scarred, disfigured faces with cold eyes and a cruel smile. Too many stories of death. The Magicals had killed too many, let too many feel the pain of loss. But their mistake had been to let them feel the pain of revenge. Oh so sweet revenge.

So sweet it became their end.

Ron's crystal clear words made her feel ashamed as he muttered bitterly, "Charlie wasn't any better, working with _dragons_ in Romania," he paused and let out a breath, "Percy wasn't too bad, being the goody two-shoes he is, constantly making up excuses for the Ministry. Then there were…"

He swallowed nervously, "F-Fred and George. They always stole the spotlight, with their pranks and mischief. Mom never stopped fussing over the twins, just like with Ginny,"

His breath hitched and she was afraid he was going to cry. Ron looked away. Hermione knew he was deliberately hiding his face from her.

"And then there was me. Useless me that always seemed to fuck it up. The one that was forgotten and everybody looked down at," his shoulders heaved, "Hell, nobody wanted anything to do with me. Bill and Charlie were the two coolest, doing the big brother stuff for Percy when he was bullied. The three of them were together in everything. Fred and George were twins. Of course they were two parts of a whole. They never left the other half,"

Ron stopped abruptly, letting the silence drown his statement almost painfully. He slowly looked to Hermione. His eyes were slightly red; like he was on the edge of crying. His bottom lip quivered. Hermione swallowed, not knowing what to do.

"Did you know, Fred…Fred died because of the Dark Lord. He died and George was there. He…he saw his brother die. And he couldn't stop to help him. Because he was fighting a battle too. A-and…"

He broke into light sobs that sounded like yelps in her ears. His chest heaved as tears sprung out of his red eyes, coating his chin in salty water. In between painful breaths, he continued, his voice breaking badly in the beginning.

"George was never the same. Losing…losing your other half was…" his gaze travelled to her right. His eyes were rimmed with red, his blue orbs overflown by sorrow, "I couldn't stand seeing his expression after he'd crack a joke. He would always wait for Fred to finish it, and that look of pure disappointment when he looked…" he trailed off, his breath hacking with withheld sobs.

Hermione didn't know what to say. She was too overwhelmed that the cheerful boy by her side had such a dark secret kept inside, hidden away so effortlessly. Ron frowned before he blinked away the tears. In the dark, she spotted that the miserable glimmer in his eyes had disappeared, replaced by an expression of shame.

"I – I'm sorry, 'Mione. I didn't want you to take that burden for me," he chuckled, wiping away the wetness on his blooming red cheeks, "I just thought… Maybe you wanted to know?"

Hermione found herself in the position where she didn't know what to do with herself, other than sitting there with her mouth agape. Clearing her throat – which had closed up halfway through Ron's talk – she forced out her response, "Yes,"

Ron inched towards her, creating an air stirring with electricity between the two. A pang of nervousness sent her emotions into a turmoil – betrayal, anxiousness and excitement blended into a mix of energy that heightened her senses.

A snore from Harry made her jump, but didn't break the magical bond that had sprung from his warm skin to hers.

Her eyes flickered to his lips involuntarily. She felt a pleasant smile spread over her lips as she glanced up at him. Even when sitting was he half a head taller than her. The bright colour of his locks caught the weak moonlight and was lighting everything around her like a flame. His innocent, baby-blue eyes were deep pools, drawing her in and luring her into the crashing waters.

She could feel the blood flowing to her cheeks. Ron's ears were blazingly crimson, just like his freckly cheeks. The blonde lashes of his eyes brushed against her forehead like feathers.

Out of a sudden, Harry let out a squeal in his sleep, breaking the trance they'd been lulled in.

Swiftly, the two of them jumped to their feet and hopped back, keeping the sacred safe distance. Ron's bewildered eyes met her wide open, brown ones. Her eyebrows reached her hairline, drawing her face features into a surprised, mouth-agape, shocked mask.

"S-sorry," Ron stuttered and his eyes slid to the ground. Once again, dots of red grew like flowers on his cheeks. Hermione stumbled over her words, "I didn't mean to. I guess I was a little too caught up in the moment,"

She blushed and Ron coughed, "Yeah, me too,"

Their gazes met, both blazing with embarrassment and with cheeks on fire. Hermione began sweating uncomfortably. She flashed him half a smile, "Goodnight then,"

Ron sniffed, "Yeah, goodnight, Hermione,"

The instant she crept upon her sleeping spot on the cold, hard ground, she could've sworn she heard him mutter, "Sweet dreams,"

That night, the grass was itching everywhere and the dirt ran up her clothes like ants. A rock lures itself inside the hem of her shirt, ripping open her skin throughout the night and a kink had developed in her neck. Despite the horrible hours of sleep, it all seemed worth it, as a strange fluttery feeling seemed to occupy her dazed mind.

 **End Notes**

 **A/N: I love you guys! Let's reach 40 reviews together! Please tell me what you think of this chapter's fluff.**


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **Chapter Fourteen**

Hermione carried the brown paper bags lightly, whistling a slow tune by herself. Harry had 'Apparated' her to the closest town and disappeared. No Muggles thought she was suspicious with her slightly dirty orange sweater – which she decided to wash in a nearby spring later – and Muggle clothing.

In the market, the cashier had eyed her greedily when she drooled all over their food. She'd bought both vegetables and some burgers they could steak over a homemade fireplace. Her stomach growled only of the thought of fresh food and milk. Hermione sighed as she felt the pepper and oranges roll around inside the paper bags. How excited she was for a proper dinner!

Harry had told her to wait on their arrival spot precisely at midday, where she'd been standing a little too long. The sun was scorching hot in her back and neck. She could feel the sweat tickling by her temples as people in shorts and fluttering t-shirts walked past.

Hermione wished dearly that she had a watch. Her only sense of time consisted of the sun's movements, and the boiling hot sun didn't seem to have moved anywhere the time she'd been standing in the melting heat.

"Hurry a little, will you, Harry?" she muttered defeated to herself, hoping he'd hurry.

While standing there, Hermione's thoughts began to wander off from Harry and his irrational sense of time, to the redhead that had given up his sleeping bag for her the day she arrived.

Her sweaty face turned slightly pink when the events of last night freshly played in her mind. His face had been so near her own. A part of her – that she quickly suppressed – screamed they'd probably have kissed hadn't it been for the distraction Harry made.

The feeling of his cheek against her temple, his golden eyelashes that caressed her skin and the warm tone of his soft voice were burned into her mind like a disease. The way his locked heart suddenly opened to her and embraced her like an unexpected hug. The way his eyes had glinted in blue, like the foam surfing on the waves and raindrops dancing around her in the rain, had been so enthralling and had sent her on a trip to ecstasy.

Then, Harry had squealed in his sleep, and their trance was broken. She didn't know a weak squeal could shatter such a deep moment like a window in a million glimmering pieces of heartbreak.

A cloud flew in front of the sun, blocking its scorching rays. She sighed in relief. A second, she'd been frightened her skin would boil and she'd evaporate in the heat.

One thing was certain; Ron would definitely not become her knight in shining armour today. Not after their awkward encounter the day before and the fact that she was standing in a hundred meter's distance from a Muggle town.

Hermione could feel her bloated skin bubble like a wax doll in an oven.

With a hacking cough, she began whistling the same melody she'd commenced earlier and almost jumped when a shadow appeared behind her with a _crack._

Exhaling in temporary relief, Hermione whirled around to hand over her bags while her mouth was overflowing with unstoppable complains and worshipping praise to her saviour.

"Harry," she warned, "there better be a good reason you're late,"

"There is," the smile reached his emerald, sparkling eyes and he rested a hand on her shoulder assuring. The excited tension between them increased. His grin widened and he admitted, "we've found our source,"

The surprise made her yell with eagerness, "Excellent!" she embraced her friend in a hug, "that's incredible, Harry,"

He smiled smugly, but the expression flickered, "Actually, we stand between two people, but they weren't reachable when we were there this morning. They're both Magicals, but we aren't certain which of them is our source yet. We're going to pay them a visit after we've eaten,"

"Who are they?" Hermione asked agitatedly, clapping her hands with the joy she got from their one-day progress.

"Their names are Oleander Bortle and Alma Dellah. Lucky for us, they live in the same town,"

A Muggle in big, flappy jeans walked past, sending them a dismayed glance at the strange couple. Hermione immediately waved Harry off and led him to a more secretive spot by the edge where the trees had stopped growing, where grass had ruled the earth for a century alone. The straws tickled around her ankles like feathers, once again reminding her of the moment she'd had with Ron.

Harry reached out for her hand and together, they Apparated back to their camp.

When Hermione suddenly found herself standing in the empty clearing they'd nicknamed a camp, she could state with certainty of a rock, that she'd never get used to Apparating. The void she felt after the tunnel of swirling colours had disappeared always surprised her at first, before the nausea came – a result of her organs being pushed and pulled in every direction.

She couldn't help the joyful giggle that escaped her when she looked down and found chapped grass laying around her feet, having been dragged with them from the field by the Muggle town. Harry spoke in Latin, the filled-to-the-brim, brown paper bags pulled out of their grips and _floated in the air._

If she hadn't known about Magicals, she would've totally freaked out as the bags floated towards the pale wizard with blazing red hair that created an illusion around itself like he was wearing a halo.

Hermione stepped closer, her heart thumping quicker the closer she drew Ron. A smile sprouted on her lips as he looked up, his blue eyes searching them alarmingly. A split second, she believed he was afraid they'd brought Muggle germs to his lovely, isolated camp.

Their gazes met. Hermione expected her chocolate brown eyes to clash with his bright blue ones, but she was met with a wall just beneath the surface of the innocent colour. Ron sent her a guarded look before his face softened and a blush coated his cheeks and ears like spray paint.

"We've found the source, 'Mione," her frown deepened as she detected an awkwardness beneath those words. Ron's ears were on fire as he broke the news to her with a gleeful chuckle.

"I know," she watched as his face became a study in disappointment. His eyebrows fell onto his eyes, which flashed away ashamedly. His sheepish, askew grin faded, but he forced it to maintain evident. The happiness lost some of its glow. Hermione slumped down next to his downfallen form, "What were their names again?"

 _Oleander Bortle_ and _Alma Dellah._

Of course Hermione hadn't forgotten the names. Ron needed encouragement, and therefore, she was willing to give him some glory.

Hermione inwardly chuckled as Ron stuttered and opened the notebook in front of him. In a chaotic scribble, assumed to be Ron's terrible handwriting, he read the names out loud, "Leander Bottle and Alma Delleh," he proudly stated.

The urge to give him a satisfying hug overwhelmed her. It was similar to when she'd notice an adorable pet in a shop and want to squeeze the cuteness out of it.

Ron was adorable sitting there, trying to convince her that he had played a critical part of today's work. His proud face resembled one of a puppy earning for his master's approval. A 'naww' pressed itself through her throat, but she covered the sound of affection with a cough.

She could feel Harry's distracting stare, but dared herself not to meet it. It would definitely ruin the moment.

"See here," Ron pointed to a place where the ink had smudged the words into an unreadable puddle. His finger followed the writing as he read aloud, "Edison Street five for the wizard and – let me see – New Street seven for the witch. The two streets are barely a quarter apart,"

Hermione had to admit that was quite the coincidence.

Ron's face lightened up as his finger pointed to the other half of the page, going deeper into their revelations. His eyes flickered from sentence to sentence and robbed the page for information. He didn't stop once in his engaged monologue. He was completely absorbed in his rant as he immersed deep into whatever he was talking about.

Hermione couldn't scrape her eyes off him while he explained. Seeing him this engaged in a simple task made her heart lighter than a feather. Recognizing the feeling as pure bliss, she decided to enjoy it as long as she could.

Ron paused and looked up, but cut himself short when their eyes locked and their gazes intertwined. For some reason, Hermione felt like their souls touched that moment, and it pulled her deeper into the happiness.

Out of embarrassment, Ron and Hermione diverted their glances rapidly, but the feeling still lingered. Hermione couldn't help it as she mumbled something incoherently and embraced him in a big, warm hug.

 **End Notes**

 **A/N: Apparently, I love making notes to you readers… Well, thanks to everybody who reviewed the last chapter, and yes, you too** _ **chemrunner57.**_ **It's nice having you back! This chapter is also a living proof that reviews** _ **does**_ **make me hurry up. So keep on with your motivating feedback!**


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **Chapter Fifteen**

Hermione's arms were locked around Ron's waist. There was a moment of hesitation before their chests touched and she gently leant her head on his shoulder. His breathing turned erratic as he suddenly realized he was being hugged.

She felt the warmth radiate from him, seeping through her clothing. Her cheeks warmed up as well, bringing a light pink colour to them. She could feel Harry's embarrassing gaze in her back, but only hugged him tighter.

Against Ron's hard chest and rigid posture, Hermione's body turned stiff and unsure. What if he didn't like it? She had a feeling she'd done something wrong, something that should've been left _undone_.

She held around him a little more, and when she was certain he wouldn't hug back, she withdrew raggedly. Suddenly, long arms snaked around her back and pulled her back into the hug. Out of surprise, Hermione gasped.

She looked up to see Ron's blue orbs washing over her, clashing with his red hair and pale skin, creating a tornado of colours. It was so dazzling, she found herself go limp in Ron's arms. The freckles on his skin twinkled at her as she silently muttered into his blazingly red ear, "Sorry,"

Ron squinted at her, his eyebrows furrowed in an act of confusion, "What do you mean, sorry?"

"I mean…" she released herself from his grip around her. The warmth he'd given her cooled down, leaving a loneliness lingering in her skin, "I'm sorry for hugging you, it was uncalled for,"

He only smiled back goofily, his grin askew and curious.

Hermione opened her mouth to reason with him again, but was cut off by him, without warning, engulfing her in a heartfelt hug. She could feel his smile grow on his face. Harry, who was standing across of them, was smiling giddily at the two with understanding.

For some reason, happiness exploded in her like an atomic bomb. Her glee brought her up in the sky, down to Earth and made her gloat with joy. She couldn't believe what had just happened to little, insignificant her.

The sudden urge to say 'I love you' overpowered her, even though she currently was certain she didn't love him, but perhaps only had a silly crush on the redhead.

Fortunately, she managed to shut her lips before they uttered something she'd regret.

"Sorry," he said huskily in her ear. All traces of insecurity were whisked away from his wavering voice. The word awfully reminded her of their conversation which had taken place only minutes ago.

She laughed on his shoulder and said, breaking out in a giggle, "What do you mean, sorry?"

His bubbly laughter joined hers as he continued, "I mean…"

The two of them then revelled further into their last conversation in unison. His darker voice mixed with her lighter one made them sound magical in symphony, "I'm sorry for hugging you, it was uncalled for,"

Suddenly they broke apart and both coughed awkwardly. A minute of silence passed. Their gazes met and the laughter pressed in the back of Hermione's throat. Simultaneously, they broke out in short chuckles and giggles.

Harry strode forward, breaking the small bond they'd created. He sent her a knowing look before turning to Ron, "Can't you two cook today?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other. Ron hesitated, but let out an 'oookay?' anyway.

She spent the following time assisting Ron and his cooking. Apparently, he had no idea what he was doing, but he always managed to make edible, rich food out of it. When they worked, they were mainly silent, except for when Hermione would ask what he was doing and why he was doing it.

In the end, she was supporting him from the side-lines, trying to learn how he cooked. When he was done, he presented the most colourful, delicious-smelling food she'd ever seen in her whole life.

While eating, the two of them got a lot of praise from Harry. Ron and Hermione kept exchanging glances, as they knew that it was all Ron's work. Nobody told Harry, but nevertheless, they were both happy with the outcome. She appreciated the small moments where Harry would complement the food, direct it at her and Ron and her would break into laughing after looking each other in the eye joyfully.

"So, shall we pay Oleander Bortle and the Alma woman a visit today?" said Ron, his mouth full.

"We should. If the Death Eaters find our source first, we have no leads. This is a race between world destruction and…us. And we really need to hurry up," Harry said, rubbing his temples.

"Can you Apparate us there?" Hermione asked. She silently hoped they couldn't, as she whole-heartedly hated the feeling of her inside being pushed and pulled in every direction.

"You'll go with Ron this time, I think. It gets a little tiring dragging you along," Harry replied with a sly smirk.

Ron reached for her hand slowly. She was taken aback when his fingers intertwined with hers and her finger was dragged across the mysterious scar on his palm. Its surface was smooth and the edges ragged.

She sucked in a breath when they suddenly drowned in black, neon colours streaking the walls like they were racing through a black tunnel. Nausea washed over her in waves, but Ron's assuring hand kept her sane and helped her fight back the dread.

With a sharp pop, they suddenly stood front of a brown wooden door. She blinked away the blur that covered the decorations on the brown wood. It looked nothing out of ordinary to her.

The trio kept an eye out of anything suspicious as Harry knocked on the door, the echo of it sounding throughout the entire house.

Hermione waited patiently until she heard Ron mutter something incoherent. He strode forward and silently pushed the door open. It gave a long, high-pitched screech as it revealed the house to them.

Harry sighed in relief as they weren't met by a group of cloaked people with bony hands and wands out. Carefully, they stepped inside and closed the door behind them. The house was silent as the grave. There was no sound at all, and Hermione was vaguely reminded of Apparition, where the only thing you could possibly perceive was the dazzling swirl of colours.

Ron and Harry exchanged a worried glance. Silently, they stepped into a sleeping room at their right. A quick look inside, and they were certain nobody had hidden inside the white-clad room that could've been taken straight out of a commercial.

They continued down the hallway, Ron and Harry in the front and Hermione lagging behind them, sporadically sending paranoid glances over her shoulder.

Out of a sudden, she heard a choked shriek in front of her. She noticed that Ron and Harry had halted momentously at the door to what she assumed was the living room. Harry had diverted his eyes away from the entrance. The emerald green eyes were glued to the floor.

Ron, however, stood frozen in place, his jaw catching flies. His ocean blue eyes were wide and his pupils almost non-existent. She could see a tremble racking his wand-wielding hand as he suddenly rushed forward, giving Hermione a sight of their discovery.

She immediately whirled away violently, on the edge of vomiting. It wasn't a pleasant sight.

There was a body, Leander Bortle's body, sitting askew in a chair by a table in the middle of the room. Around it, there seemed to have rained blood. From the ceiling, there were silently dripping teardrops of crimson, creating puddles on the floor underneath. All the other inventory in the room had been crushed to bits, small items like withering flowers and pictures had been hurled into the walls, creating a circle of destroyed possessions around the deceased man.

In the chair, the blood had been smudged around. The body was no longer recognizable. From all the pores, it seemed like blood had been oozing out unstoppably. The blood-drenched chair was beige, but only the back had remained that colour. From the legs of the victim, the crimson substance had created a puddle that reached to the table that stood by the chair's side in a harmonic balance.

Not that there was anything harmonic about the sight at all.

Hermione's breath hitched as she heard Ron let out a string of curses. He had reached Leander Bortle. A splat sounded in the room as he stepped in a blood puddle. The echo ringed in her ears without an end, like it was set on replay.

Closing her eyes, she forced herself to walk into the room. Harry stood over the table and swallowed hard. The sound of dripping blood made her sick.

Ron stared wide-eyed at the broken man in the chair, performing various spells to clean him up, even though they all knew all hope had vanished they found him.

A newspaper, surprisingly clean, lay peacefully on the table. She could imagine the old man reading it before the Death Eaters came barging on his ordinary door. The front page was barely stained.

She recognized a finger mark over the letter C, drawn in fresh blood. Another finger mark, much bloodier than the latter, had splatted blood over the letter R. As she stood there, on the verge of crying and with the nausea making her stomach roll, she came to the realization that he had tried to write a word.

Harry had come the same conclusion. They followed the letters with their fingers, reading them out loud while Ron was in the background, panicking slightly.

"H…O…R..." Hermione read, "C…R…U…X…E…is that an S?"

Harry paled, "Horcruxes,"

She continued further down on the page, "R…E…S…U…R…R…E…C…T…Resurrection,"

Next, there was a whole phrase highlighted in pale red. The words stared at her and the dizziness came at her with full force, almost knocking her off her feet. She felt weak in her knees. The blood drained from Harry's face.

In black ink, two petty words stood out in razor-sharp details;

 _Harry Potter._

 **A/N: Hey people! As I have noticed, this story has a lot of followers. As I really, really like reviews (thanks reviewers, you are the best!), I would greatly appreciate if some of my fabulous followers left a review on this chapter. If that happens, I promise there'll be a chapter up sooner than you'll notice! Thank you!**


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **Chapter Sixteen**

Hermione and Harry stood long and stared at the newspaper. The crimson ink that linked the letters together stared back at them wickedly, boring into the insides of her eyelids. She could feel her emotions numbing out bit by bit as Harry snaked his arm around her, and the tears sprung loose from behind her dull, chocolate brown eyes.

Her sobs echoed in the strangely empty room with blood cascading down the walls and dripping onto their shoes like petty, red raindrops. Hermione forced herself to look up, into Harry's blank, watering eyes.

Ron stood frozen, his clothing blood-stained and ruined, in front of the dead man. She could sense the memories playing in front of his downcast, sharp eyes. The sky blue colour had intensified, she noticed, into one of pure agony and stoniness, like the emotion met a sacred wall of stone it couldn't pass.

"W-what does it mean?" she forced out, hiccupping between sobs that racked her body senseless. She shuddered with a gulp, "Horcruxes, resurrection… _Harry Potter_. What did he mean by that?"

Harry's blank stare travelled over her swiftly, "It means…we'll have to go through hell to get rid of the Dark Lord,"

Hermione swallowed. All members in the trio knew that _get rid of_ meant kill. To force an evil soul to leave an Earth full of life. She knew it would be hard to kill him, if they even got that far.

She shivered, a lonely, weak sob sending goosebumps upon her forearms.

"Do you think we can kill him? That we can make it…" she trailed off, unnerved by the fact that they wouldn't get through with their plan without losses.

Harry, who had looked vulnerable and sick for a moment, straightened and said clearly, "We can kill Voldemort. We have something he hasn't, loyal–"

He was abruptly cut off by Ron, who sharply broke out of the trance he'd been trapped in. His bewildered eyes flickered from roof to floor before he whispered frightened, "You said his name!"

Harry's hand flew to his mouth the split second several high-pitched _cracks_ splintered the tense air. A dozen gruff shouts screaming bloody murder were carved into fresh memory as Hermione was pulled by the arm and the sensation of Apparition overtook her. The colours swirled around her, the emotions whipped her around in the chaotic tunnel they were dragged through.

Out of a sudden, she hissed as claws dug into her arm, puncturing the skin. She yelped, and the colours of the world exploded back into her vision, making her trip over her feet. The blood burnt on her arm and a sudden movement behind her made her heart leap.

Something gnarled, and she found herself crashing into the rock hard ground, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her forehead bumped into a battered branch, sending scorching pain to the back of her skull. A sharp item was pressed to her neck.

Her eyes wide and her arms flailing and struggling to get back up, she realized she had met her end. The blood thumped in her aching temples and her heartbeat was going crazy. Hermione couldn't breathe, the air was heavy and her airways blocked by an immense fatigue.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Ron hollered from somewhere.

" _Stupefy!_ " Harry bellowed from a distance.

A huge weight was lifted off her lungs. The pressure on her legs and arms was released, letting the blood flow freely and giving her an illusion of freedom. A rush of air filled her lungs, letting the much needed oxygen spread. Hermione inhaled and exhaled a few times, getting her breath back.

She whirled around, spotting a man clad in a black cloak passed out under a tree. A horrendous scar was marred into the man's skin, stretching across his nose and over his almost closed, black eye.

Her eyes flared open in shock while Harry muttered his excuses.

"What was that?"

Ron said, "A Death Eater," before he straightened the shredded piece of newspaper he clutched in his hands. The blood dripped from the edges of white paper. A weak wave of nausea rolled over Hermione.

Harry coughed, " _Horcruxes. Resurrection. Harry Potter,_ "

The code sounded like a mantra as the three of them repeated it slowly, letting the words drift in the air. Hermione, who had no idea what 'Horcruxes' meant, tried to piece together the two other hints, but ended up blank.

Harry sensed her distress and confusion, "Horcruxes are items containing pieces of Vol–," a quick, frightened glare from Ron halted him in his tracks, "– _The Dark Lord_ 's soul. He traps them in different objects, and they can only be destroyed – from what we've discovered so far – basilisk poison,"

Ron wavered with a hollow pendant filled with a dark substance, an askew, trembling grin on his face. The bloody newspaper lay in his lap, staining his black pants. Hermione cringed when she noticed his flaming hair painted slightly red in the ends. A splatter of blood ran across his cheeks and nose.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, "So we have to find the Horcruxes, destroy them and kill the Dark Lord before he is resurrected and has risen to full power,"

"It isn't that easy, we don't know _where_ the Horcruxes are, nor _what_ they are. Bloody hell, we don't even know if they have been made yet!"

"Or if they even plan to create them!" Hermione added.

Ron shot her a look, "But our source confirmed it. He's definitely certain in his things,"

"Perhaps they want the Dark Lord himself to choose the sacred objects? Did that even strike you?"

"Hell, 'Mione, you're such a know-it-all sometimes,"

"We can't depend all our beliefs on an old coffin-dodger who could even be wrong, Ron," she snapped, "Don't be an ignorant arse,"

Ron grinned at her sheepishly and turned to the bloody piece of newspaper he'd managed to sneak with him. His hand was smudged with blood as he rubbed his fingers over the letters highlighted.

"Are there other ways to resurrect him, Harry?" she asked, letting her attention flow over at him. Harry looked up, his eyebrows furrowed and thought for a minute.

He replied slowly, "I don't know, Hermione. We aren't exactly masters in the Dark Arts,"

Behind her, Ron began to vigorously search every inch of the paper, in hope of more clues to their problem. She got a bad feeling as his hopeful expression faltered rapidly.

A groan spiked Hermione's adrenaline levels, sending a rush of alertness into her mind. Her head snapped in the direction of the fallen Death Eater. He lay still for a moment before he jumped to his feet, no wand in sight.

Harry almost sounded bored as he cursed, " _Petrific Totalus,_ "

Hermione watched amazed the Death Eater freeze in his movements and fall to the ground without moving a muscle. She gasped astonished and sent a glance Ron's way.

A drop of water landed on her head and she almost jumped out of her skin. Ron's voice wavered charmingly "Bloody– it's raining,"

He took the crumpled newspaper and hid it inside his black cloak, shielding it from the rain. They retreated to under the same tree as the frozen Death Eater, whose eyes were glued open painfully. The raindrops suddenly multiplied, letting a river flow freely underneath the soles of their soggily wet shoes.

With accident, Hermione tripped over her feet. She flung out an arm and during the last second, managed to tighten a grip around the branch overhead. Ron had moved forward momentously, and as Hermione's weight pulled the branch down, the water on the green leaves crashed against the Earth, drenching the wizard from head to toe.

Oleander Bortle's blood trickled down his temple.

"What are we going to do now?" Harry implied, letting out a chuckle in the process.

Ron ruffled his hair, making it a spiky mess like Harry's. His hand came back more crimson than before. He stared at it before drying it off on his cloak, "I suggest we find the position of the Horcruxes – if there are any – but not before cleaning up,"

The drop of mixed blood and water had reached his chin. It had left a wet trail on the side of his face. Hermione smiled warmly, "I know of a lake at home where it's wonderful to swim,"

Harry nodded stiffly, "But how do you suggest we find the Horcruxes? We have nothing to work on,"

A grin grew on Ron's lips, his innocent blue eyes withheld clear mirth as he reached inside his cloak and pulled out a ragged piece of bloody paper. He insinuated to a picture and headline on the newspaper page, where the blood was miraculously removed.

A living photo – which in itself astonished Hermione – of a woman with black, curly hair and wild eyes that flickered around with a crazed pace caught her attention. The black orbs of her maniac stare burnt through the page like she was standing there in front of the three friends under the tree.

The headline was in big, bold letters; _DEATH EATER BELLATRIX LESTRANGE ESCORTED TO AZKABAN._

Hermione's eyes widened in half in surprise, half in fear. Ron looked her in the eyes mesmerizingly, "I think we're going to pay the crazy woman a visit,"

 **A/N: Thank you for all the kind response to the last chapter! I love all you reviewers; JeanAndBilius, thatwitch64, Mery Weasley (a good example for all you lurking followers!) and chemrunner57! Together we've all made it to 51 reviews! Isn't that fantastic?**

 **Again, I want to remind all followers that a review – long or short – is forever appreciated from an overworked author! I can promise you all that the following chapters will have more action, more romance and overall more awesomeness. For each review, the next chapter will grow in size! C'mon, people!**


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **A/N: Thanks to Guest and Orange Chicken for reviewing. I appreciate it a lot! :)**

 **Chapter Seventeen**

"What is that thing!?" Hermione exclaimed shocked. The wrinkly, little human with a pair of bulging eyes and long, floppy ears yelped. It was clad in only a half-shredded rug that fluttered around it when it moved. When it had out of a sudden popped out of thin air…well, you could say she got quite the shock.

"Dobby is sorry for scaring miss," the creature said, only resulting in Hermione taking a wobbly step backwards and her eyes widening further.

Ron snickered behind her and laid an arm around her shaking shoulders, "You're not afraid of standing up against a mob of ravenous Muggles with weapons, but you're cowering in fear by the sight of an _elf_?"

She looked him dead in the eye, "I'm not 'cowering in fear'," she let her chocolate brown eyes glide over the small being in front of her, "Besides, it's just an…elf,"

Ron chuckled. A short bubbly laughter that made Hermione's insides boil. The hand around her shoulders sent blood flowing up her cheeks. She laughed with him tensely, her cheeks tinted with magical pink.

Harry bent down to the creature and asked softly, "We have to get into Azkaban," he started, noticing the conflicted feelings displayed in the elf, "Into Bellatrix Lestrange's cell, to be exact. Will you help us, Dobby?"

The elf looked unsure. A second passed, then Dobby's eyes began flickering and he dabbled senselessly, "Dobby cannot do that to Mistress Bellatrix. Dobby is told not to interfere with Mistress if she don't call Dobby's name…"

The rest of the rant was muffled by the elf's quick breaths and mumbling. Harry's gaze intensified, his emerald green eyes hardened, " _Will you help us_?"

Dobby clamped up immediately. "Dobby will help Harry Potter and his friends,"

After a great mix of hesitation (most on Hermione's part, seen as she didn't want to Side-along Apparate with an elf), determination and confusion, Hermione once again found herself in the well-known whirlwind of colours and darkness while her inside was pulled and pushed in all directions.

With a deserved exhale, the group of two wizards, a Muggle girl and an elf landed safely in the corner of a dark room. To Hermione, the shadows seemed alive, stretching out for the newcomers with snaky fingers. The walls and roof were made out of battered, old stone bricks. On the floor that constantly emitted gusts of cold, there were remains of old stone that had crumbled to dust. An opening in the wall was heavily secured by iron bars that curled around themselves like snakes. But far more wicked than the chamber, was the lady within.

Dobby shivered and Disapparated with a _pop_.

Hadn't they stood in the same room, the hag could've easily passed as a trick of Hermione's imagination. Under the rough wind that was howling outside the prison, the woman barked with maniac laughter. When the wind reached its peak, her voice grew suddenly very strong and very fast, before it calmed down again, and the woman continued humming.

Harry and Ron whipped out their wands cautiously.

Abruptly, she halted to a stop and sprung forward with wild eyes. Raising to her two feet, she made the hair on the bushy-haired girl's arm stand like sticks. The woman flickering eyes tinted by insanity, which colour was impossible to tell, as they never rested long enough for Hermione to process. Her skin was pearly white and a too-wide grin stretched from hollow cheek to hollow cheek, revealing a row of badly treated teeth. She had black, curly hair that reminded them of a stray dog.

"Harry Potter," she shrieked in greeting, coming closer, "And his blood traitor friend Weasley, and…who is this? A filthy, little Muggle!"

The trio stood stiffly and watched as Bellatrix Lestrange approached Hermione, "Muggles… I wish I had killed them all. Worse than Mudbloods and blood traitors, she is!"

Bellatrix whirled around, facing Ron and Harry, "We could rule the world, we could. All filthy, unworthy Muggles and Mudbloods would disappear and the Dark Lord would make us great again!" she paused, "Look at us now, hunted, _suppressed_. Our magic, _hated_!"

Her sick grin widened as she hissed, "Lord Voldemort will bring back magic to its deserving glory!" she ripped open her left sleeve with her black, claw-like nails. Hermione gasped.

She had learnt in History Class that Death Eaters – or all Magicals, in fact – wore the Dark Mark.

A tattoo of a snake and a skull intertwined in a deadly combination was living on her forearm. The black ink stood out like blood in snow on her pale skin.

Ron rasped, "Where are the Horcruxes?"

Bellatrix' maniac laughter echoed in the chamber. "Oh, _Horcruxes_ ," the malice sneaked into her words, "This time, the Lord has found a much better method. Oh, yes. There is no way to stop it,"

She leaned towards Hermione, and she could feel her horrid breath, " _Voldemort will rise to power_!"

With a high-pitched, deafening cry, Bellatrix hurled around and lunged at Ron with all her might. Taken with surprise, he didn't have time to utter a spell before she had hit him hard to the stone floor. Bellatrix' wild eyes were fixed on his wand and did another attempt at stealing it.

Desperately, Ron held his wand away from her, looking baffled and alarmed. With her claw-like nails, she cut deep into his arm and slowly peeled his skin off.

A pleased smile flashed over Bellatrix' psychotic features as the blood started to drip down his arm. The first drop fell, and she watched it drop with amazement.

"Bloody hell, get off me!" Ron abruptly yelled as he saw the look on her face.

The scream startled the prisoner, and her animalistic instincts acted up again. She sprang forward and grabbed his wand in the span of a split second. Then, an ear-splitting _crack_ filled the air.

In her hands, Ron's wand lay in two pieces, only connected by a few threads from the core.

His blue eyes widened before they seemingly became clouded with rage. The blood trickled down his elbow and he jumped to his feet with clenched fists. Hermione hadn't seen Ron this ravenous before. Involuntarily, her heart leapt as he snarled at her, seeing red, "You're going to pay for that, you _bloody bitch_!"

Ron hurled forward, and before anyone could react, Bellatrix lay passed out cold on the floor with a panting Ron fuming over her.

Harry stood transfixed with his wand frozen in a flick. The tension in the air made it hard to breath. He gazed at Ron, "…Impressive,"

Ron glared back. He growled, "Dobby,"

With a sharp _pop_ the elf once again appeared. Dobby looked at Hermione apologetically, "Dobby is sorry if he scared miss,"

Hermione let out a strangled chuckle before they assembled in the middle of the room. She was careful to step over Bellatrix, not wanting anything to do with the wicked woman. A pang of fear sent thrills up her spine. Was Ron like the wizards in her history books? Where they ruthlessly pained others without a second thought, just like he'd just done?

Another side of her argued back. Ron _had_ been angry, and she _had_ said some cruel things. In addition, he didn't seem like the type who'd torture people as a hobby. He was sweet, funny Ron with the innocent eyes. No more, no less.

However, she still felt the pang of fear flare up at the mention of his name.

Suddenly, the world danced around her with strong colours that swirled around in the dark. The shifting streaks of colour pulled her back and forth, but she forced herself to hold onto Dobby as best as she could. With an explosion of light, they were standing in their last camp.

Ron immediately broke free from the circle they'd created, the mangled remains of his wooden wand in his hand.

Harry stole a look at him and concluded that it was best to shove off until he had cooled off. Hermione, however, had other ideas.

"Hey," she said softly.

He didn't answer, but swiftly sent her a glare. She smiled, "Are you okay?"

At first, he didn't respond. She let the question hang in the air, and when she was about to ask again, he replied coldly, "If you look past the fact that the bloody woman clawed open my arm, that You-Know-Who has planned something _worse_ than Horcruxes and that my wand is broken, then I am all giddy and _bloody fine_!"

Hermione didn't know what to say. She stuttered, "Can't you just make a new wand?"

"Bloody hell, no! Do you know how dangerous that is?" the freckles on his cheeks looked like drops of blood on his pale face. His blue eyes shone with barely contained desperation.

"Don't you have a spare?" she tried hopefully. Her voice sounded weak and pathetic.

He was abruptly very silent. The only noise in the forest was their breathing, along with the dripping sound of the last raindrops. Ron sighed.

"I do have a spare, but… It's not mine," Hermione pictured the worst, "It's my brother's… Fred's,"

Hermione swallowed hard. She had never been at a complete loss of words, but this time had to be the first. She bit her tongue and forced herself to offer some comfort. Her hand clasped with his. The warmth from his skin tangled with her cold.

"I'm sorry," she finally said.

Ron smiled at her. His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. His thoughts seemed to have wandered off somewhere else. She smiled at him warmly before she left him with his broken wand. Sometimes, people just needed to be left alone.

 **End Notes**

 **A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reads this! A penny for your thoughts?**


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

 **Chapter Eighteen**

"Come on! The water is marvellous!" Hermione said joyfully as she splashed around in the water.

It was refreshing seeing all the grime and blood that had covered her skin, slowly vanish as if it never existed. The water was sparkling in the sun, and from the waterfall ahead, small water drops flew all over the tiny lake. At the tips of Hermione's damp hair, drops formed and trickled down her back.

Seeing as she'd lived in only one pair of clothing, Harry had been nice enough to magically make a bikini appear, although it had been quite embarrassing. She had blushed so hard when she'd said it was too small.

However, now she was out in the tiny lake and enjoying it.

On shore, Ron and Harry were standing in their swimming wear, dipping their toes in the cold water suspiciously. They stood there a long time with Hermione shouting at them to hurry.

Smiling devilishly, she inhaled and sent a wide, forceful splash their way. Out of surprise, Harry jumped into the lake, drenching them all from head to toe.

Ron, on the other hand, quickly removed his foot from the water and stepped backwards in a hurry. Glancing up, he sent her an accusing glare.

"Why did you do that?" he said, and Hermione became a little afraid that she'd made him mad, "You could have killed me!"

She chuckled when his face reddened.

Ron was acting quite different from how he had earlier. Where he had been like a dark cloud, seemingly always deep in thought about his dead brother, he was now rather cheerful and it seemed like he had forgotten it. Although Hermione knew that most likely, it would never happen.

The only trace of the glooming boy he'd been, was the faint, dull shine in his eyes, which darkened the baby blue into a deep, whirling pool of midnight blue and mystery.

She was happy he was (almost) back to himself.

"Just jump in, Ron, or I'll have to push you," she threatened, swimming a small round in the water.

He didn't reply, but his eyes narrowed at the thought before he crossed his arms over his exposed chest, which Hermione found very attractive. Whereas she'd imagined him to be an exact stick, unbelievably thin and very tall, he was indeed a stick. He wasn't sickly thin, but he didn't seem normal weight either, which Hermione found strange as she'd witnessed him _eat._ A small hint of muscle decorated his arms and she felt a little downhearted as she could spot his ribs.

"Now I'm coming up," Hermione warned and walked up the shore, closer to where it was possible to jump from. She said again, "I'm coming closer,"

Ron rolled his eyes, but when his eyes locked with Hermione's, his ears turned crimson. The blood rushed to her face when she realized what she was wearing, but it didn't stop her from walking up to him and prepare for the push.

"Now I'm here," coming closer to Ron suddenly made her heart perk up, before it calmed down in a million heartbeats per second. The blood in her cheeks pooled up.

Then, she pushed him off the end. What she didn't expect was the hand that wrapped itself around her wrist and dragged her toward the water too. She barely managed to close her eyes before she was engulfed in cold, wet and blue.

She broke the surface of the water spluttering and faced Ron with a deadly glare, "That was your plan all along! You git!"

He smiled, the askew grin reminding her of a small boy who'd just stolen from the cookie jar. "Maybe it was," he laughed, but was cut off by her soaking him further by a wave of rushing water that landed on his face.

"Oh, no! You didn't," he said before he dragged his hand along the water, sending a splash of drops all over her. She simply ducked, which caused her hair to get three times heavier with water. The image of the scar in his palm, covered in running drops of water, was burned onto her eyelids.

Collecting all her speed, she rushed to the surface, hurling thousands of sparkling water drops into the air. She shook her head and the water in her hair whipped around them.

Their eyes locked. The blue in Ron's eyes had dramatically changed, and there was no sign of the doom she knew he'd felt not too long ago. Of course, he'd never get rid of the poisonous butterfly that flew around in his heart, reminding him of all the bad things that had happened to him.

Hermione stared into those crystal clear eyes, both the colour of the sky and the ocean.

Suddenly, a wall of cold water hit her from behind. Immediately, she whirled around and was met by another splash from the green-eyed, dark-haired wizard.

In unison, Ron and Hermione's gazes locked and together, they hurled half the ocean over Harry, who's face had gone from smug to astonished in a split second. Harry was soaked, inside and out. Hermione felt her victorious, warm smile split her face in two, while Ron was bent laughing at her side.

"High five, Ron," she smiled, but the mood was broken as she was met with furrowed brows and a 'what's a high five?'. Her smile faded momentously, "You've got to be kidding!"

Harry facepalmed at her side, sending water drops in all directions.

Ron's innocent blue eyes were wide and confused, "Merlin, Muggles are confusing!"

"High fives are famous _worldwide_! You have to know what a high five is!" to further prove her point, she and Harry high-fived dramatically in front of him.

Ron stared at her blankly and smiled, a dimple Hermione had never noticed, appearing in his cheek, "It's not my fault I haven't heard of a wicked, slap-your-friend tradition that'll probably be strange enough to join the Quibbler!"

Harry roared with laughter. Hermione – having no idea what a Quibbler was – stared at them with the same expression Ron had only moments ago. Although she didn't understand the term, she couldn't help but giggle along.

A cloud swept over them upon the sky, casting shadows on the sparkling water and rushing waterfall behind them.

Like a whisper, the four words repeated themselves in the back of her mind.

 _Horcruxes. Resurrection. Harry Potter._

She jumped.

Hermione was tempted to ask if they heard it too, but with a glance on their laughing forms, she decided to keep it to herself.

At least she could scratch out the part about Horcruxes, if she trusted the words of the hideous woman, Bellatrix.

 _Resurrection. Harry Potter._

Her heart suddenly sped up and the blood rushed in her ears. Obviously, there were two different scenarios they could craft from the words.

One, they needed to resurrect Harry Potter.

Or two, they needed Harry Potter to resurrect someone else.

 **A/N: Forever thanks to all those you still review (you make my day)! And thanks for over 5000 views!**


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Summary: In a universe where the magical world is exposed to the Muggles, wizards and witches are suppressed and hunted. There, in her small, brown cottage in the woods, Muggle Hermione Granger meets Wizard Ron Weasley, and an adventure is born.

Thanks to _JeanAndBilius_ and _thatwitch64_ for reviewing! You guys are awesome, and I hope you like chapter nineteen!

 **Chapter Nineteen**

The market was full of Muggles laughing and talking happily in the sharp morning sun. They hurried past them, sending longing glances at the stands full of jewellery and fruits. The whole street was dancing in colours, with all types of exotic fruits and jam. The smell of freshly baked bread seeped from the bakery, and street artists were performing with mirth in the corners where no shop owners had stolen their space.

Ron Weasley didn't like it the least.

His Muggle clothes were uncomfortable, people were sending him weird looks and he was immensely, incredibly, unbelievably _hot._

In the heat, he shivered as Hermione took his hand gently. "Ron," she said. She was, unlike him, dressed lightly, with a nice yellow dress which complimented her hair harmonically, "Aren't you warm?"

He took a shaky breath, "Of course I am, but bloody hell, I'm not going to draw attention to myself like Harry does,"

Hermione laughed. Harry was wearing a shorts and a thin, fluttering blue shirt with the text 'California '94' on it. Ron himself wore what his female companion would've called 'mugger clothes' instead of 'Muggle clothes', seen as he wore a dark pair of trousers and a black hoodie. The hood was pulled over his head, making his face dance in the shadows and his flickering, blue eyes sparkle.

"I assure you, if you let go of the hoodie, you'd draw a lot less attention to yourself, Ronald," she said.

"Don't call me _Ronald._ You know I hate it," Ron said, sending a cautious glance at Harry, who was eagerly picking fruit from a large stand, where the shop owner was a red-faced man with a round belly.

Hermione playfully hit him on the shoulder, "Not before you take off the hoodie,"

For a moment, their eyes locked, and she suddenly realized she had _playfully hit him on the shoulder._ Her cheeks suddenly grew hot, and not because of the blazing sun. The blush spread from her cheeks, and she found herself standing in front of Ron with a very indelicate, warm and tomato red face.

Hadn't the hood bathed Ron's face in shadow, she would've seen how his ears suddenly had become red as blood and how his pale cheeks had become tinted a pale pink.

But what surprised her the most was the fact that Ron bluntly replied with an 'ok' before he accusingly looked at the Muggles hurrying past him, and pulled the black sweater over his head.

Hermione's face flushed as his sheet-white skin peeked out from under his shirt, and looked away.

The moment her eyes landed on another being than Ron, the world around her suddenly bleached until all movement was frozen around her. Harry's indistinct chattering with the shop owner became faint and unimportant, while Ron followed her terrified gaze curiously.

A second flew past and they both exclaimed loudly in unison as Harry darted their way, " _Malfoy,_ "

The wizard was clad in Muggle clothing as well, his pale skin and white hair dazzled her. Ron and Harry whipped out their wands, while the Muggles around them took a rushed step backwards before staggering away. The closest people broke into a run, while the owner of the fruit shop yelled at Harry furiously.

Hermione knew what was coming. She'd read about Magical duels in her history books, but she'd also read about her own people's cruelty and weapons.

They had to get out of there – away from Malfoy _and_ all the Muggles.

Malfoy raised his hands defensively while his eyes flickered between Ron, whose wand was raised towards him and a scowl playing on his face, and Harry, who glared intensely at him, a spell threatening to spill out of his closed lips.

"Malfoy, leave," Ron snarled at him.

"Look," the blonde started, "I just want to talk. I know where the Dark Lord will be resurrected,"

Ron and Harry exchanged a confused gaze.

"Why should we believe someone like you, Malfoy? You're a bloody Death Eater. Now shove off and go play with your bloody–,"

"The Malfoy Manor has been burnt to the ground," Malfoy stated flatly, despair flashing over his face. He put his hand in his pocket as Ron poked his wand closer to Malfoy's heart. Out of his pocket, he drew his wand, but surprisingly, he held it out in front of him and let it fall to the ground with a _thud,_ "The Dark Lord wants to get rid of my family. Apparently, we know too much,"

His grey eyes darkened, "I want to rid his filthy, serpent face off of the surface of the Earth forever,"

A small voice in Hermione's head screamed at her, _don't listen to what he says! He's a manipulating, evil Death Eater!_

"Hermione, take his wand," Ron said coldly, unaffected by Malfoy's speech. She did as she was told, and visibly shuddered as Ron asked harshly, "Tell us the real reason you're here, Malfoy,"

Malfoy's face suddenly looked so old. He looked at his feet with shame and muttered in a pained voice, too pained to be an act, "I…I fell in love with…with a Muggle,"

In unison, Harry and Ron exclaimed, "What?"

He elaborated, his eyes still glued to the ground, "Astoria Greengrass," he said, "Daphne Greengrass' Muggle little sister,"

The silence was deafening before Malfoy broke it again, "You have to understand, Potter. I do love her. She's as precious to me, as Ginny Weasley is to you,"

Harry gaped like a fish and the moment he found his voice, an ear-splitting sound made Hermione's ears ring. Everybody whirled around, facing the sound, and the man holding the gun.

The owner of the fruit shop, who'd earlier laughed mirthfully, his red face growing redder, and his round stomach expanding with his deep breaths, was now standing with a cold glint in his eyes, and a metal gun pointing at Harry.

"I should have killed you the moment you touched my pineapples," he growled.

If it hadn't been for the fact he held a deadly gun in his hands, Hermione would've giggled. But he did have a gun, so instead, the burning feeling of unshed tears pricked her like needles.

Harry took a step backwards, but didn't put his wand away. "Stand on a line, and keep your hands where I see them," the man threatened, nodding at them with his loaded gun.

In a blur of motion, they'd done as he'd commanded, and Hermione was now standing in between Ron and the bleached blonde Malfoy, who were sending each other glances filled to the brim with disgust.

The shop owner snickered, "Lay down on the ground slowly,"

As they did, he towered over them, his gun travelling from Harry to Ron, to Hermione, and finally, it rested on Malfoy. At her side, she heard Ron mutter something so low, it was indecipherable.

"Now, who shall I kill first?" the man snarled.

Then, as the gunshot still rung in the air, the man started yelling menacingly, Ron's furious shout echoed in her ears and she was dragged into the nightmare of Apparition, the blackness engulfing her and the colours making her dizzy.

However, a second before the gunshot sounded, a cold, pale hand had grabbed her, and was now holding her in an iron grip.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins to the point it hurt.

Malfoy had Side-Along Apparated with them.

 **End Notes**

 **A/N: LET'S HIT 60 REVIEWS! Please tell me one good thing, and one thing I can do better in this story! Until next chapter, see you!**


	20. Chapter Twenty

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

 **A/N: Yes! We reached 60 reviews!**

 **Thank you so much for all the feedback I've gotten, and especially from** _ **thatwitch64**_ **! Also, I am so happy that** _ **Ron'sLoverMahima**_ **(such a sweet review) and** _ **JeanAndBilius**_ **took the time to leave kind words!**

 **I just wanted to answer to the issue about my slow updates: I know that I take good over a week each time I update, and I know it may infuriate my readers (it even infuriates me). I don't want to excuse myself and give other things the blame, but as I always am – I'm busy. I'm starting at a school for athletes (which I am), and there'll be lots of exercise etc. that I have to attend. I have school until four o'clock, then I bike home, make dinner in a rush and go to late day exercise until around seven. Naturally, I am exhausted after that.**

 **As said before, I don't want to blame a stupid school, but as good as I'll try to write chapters for you amazing folk in the weekends (where there's no training camps). I love reviews, and as to most authors, that boosts my will to publish and write chapters faster.**

 **So, PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Chapter Twenty**

The second the shadows around her drained from her sight, it left the surrounding trees in a dazzling shade of green. They had Apparated into the deeper part of a forest, where the deafening silence sent a chill down Hermine's spine. The cold air brushed her skin, making her shiver. A cold hand was locked around her wrist roughly. Malfoy let out a surprised shout from her side.

Hermione's eyes flared up.

Her hands darted down to the pocket where she'd put his wand. Her shoulders sagged in relief as she touched the rough surface of the wood, but the adrenaline coursing in her veins spiked as Malfoy muttered something indecipherable behind her and the grip on her hand – surprisingly – lessened.

She heard him stagger backwards. Immediately, she jumped defensively towards her friends while rubbing her aching wrist. She hardly noticed the throbbing from underneath the layer of adrenaline she fed off.

Her focus flickered as she nervously caught Ron and Harry's gazes. Before she could utter a single word, they all had their wands pointed directly at a point behind her – Malfoy's chest. The blonde stood stiffly, not daring to move a finger.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, _Malfoy_?" Ron snapped, jagging his wand in his direction threateningly, his blue eyes glazed over by anger.

Malfoy opened his mouth like a gaping fish, "Weasley," he started calmly, "I am here to help you, like I said. I'm not lying,"

Harry's piercing glare made him shift his footing self-cautiously, "How do we know what you told us is the truth, Malfoy. After all those years at Hogwarts, we know what a bloody pompous, backstabbing git you are,"

"I have–" he stuttered and his face fell as the two wizards cut off his weak attempt at a defence.

Ron snarled, "The only time we'd ever need your help, would be if we were on our knees before You-Know-Who and had the Elder Wand pointed at us. Nobody wants you here, Malfoy,"

The silence was only interrupted by their ragged breaths and the rush of blood in their ears. Malfoy's wide eyes stared at Ron with a look of disbelief.

"Even if we'd accept you, what happened to Goyle would happen to us too. And I rather prefer myself _alive_ ," Ron's harsh words cut through the air, the tension between them was so thick they could cut it with a butter knife, "That's when we'll regret that we didn't curse you into oblivion the moment we saw your smug, little ferret face,"

"I have changed. I really have," Malfoy piped in, his smug tone dissipated, "Astoria… She made me realize that I've been fighting on the wrong side of the war the whole time,"

Hermione felt tears of despair build up behind her eyes, and frantically tried to conceal the turmoil that boiled in her. She wanted to believe him, but from what Ron and Harry had told her, it would be impossible to trust him, less even rely on him in battle.

Ron scowled, but didn't lower his wand, "If only we had Veritaserum, then I'd blow your bloody awful cover with a single fucking question,"

"It's not a bloody cover, Weasley!" Malfoy's pale cheeks took a faint colour of pink, a frustrated sneer taking the place of his thin line of a mouth.

Before Hermione had time to process what she'd say, a mouthful of words slipped out of her closed lips, "I believe him,"

Simultaneously, Ron and Harry's heads snapped in her direction and they exclaimed in unison, " _What_?!"

She repeated, her voice wavering, "I – I believe him,"

Malfoy's sneer was wiped off immediately and for a moment, he seemed stunned, " _Thank_ you!"

"Hermione," Ron warned her, "Do you have any idea what he's done? He's an evil, vile Death Eater, and he won't hesitate to kill you once you lower your wand,"

Hermione's warm, brown eyes connected with Malfoy's grey ones before they locked with Ron's. The sky blue colour looked dead and cold, much like the malicious look Malfoy had worn the first time she'd seen him in her small hut in the woods.

How she missed normalcy.

Hermione's voice was inviting and calm when she turned to Malfoy, "How can you prove to us that you're speaking the truth?"

Ron said through gritted teeth, " _He can't_ ,"

Malfoy chose to ignore him, "I know where they are going to resurrect the Dark Lord, and I know how," he paused, letting the statement sink in, "I can show you, and I can help you. All I want is to kill the Dark Lord, and then, we can go back to being each other's enemies,"

"Go on," Harry commanded.

"Hell. Not before that fucking maniac has lowered his wand," he nodded in the direction of Ron, who let his wand arm fall to his side, but still gripped the wooden stick with white knuckles. Malfoy nodded and Harry egged him to continue.

"As you probably already know, the Dark Lord doesn't use Horcruxes this time. His soul is too defragmented to split again, so the Death Eaters have long searched for an ancient curse that has been lost for a millennium,"

His face darkened, " _The Pheralius Curse_ ,"

Nobody moved a muscle. Hermione shot a nervous look at Ron, who looked just as confused as her. Harry asked anxiously, "What does it do?"

Malfoy swallowed hard and the forest seemed darker around him. She looked over her shoulder, the feeling of being watched haunting her. The pale wizard looked at her with empty eyes as he lifted the hem of his shirt and exposed the most horrible, terrifying wound she'd ever seen.

Hermione's heartbeat thundered in her chest and the black liquid in his stomach pulsed and oozed more. The gaping hole was messy with blood and pus, making her wand to gag.

"It eats us up from the inside," Malfoy stated, "Until we're bloody living corpses,"

 **Chapter End**

 **A/N: I really want to know what you think of my story this far. I am talking to you, readers, who hasn't reviewed yet or want to tell me something. Feedback makes me hurry up, and I want to know what you think. Please get me to 70 reviews!**


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

 **OH! I am so terribly, horribly, excruciatingly sorry! I am fully aware that I haven't updated any of my stories for a MONTH! This is a crime, both to you readers and to myself. I swore I wouldn't be one of those people who hang up on stories like that. A crime, I say!**

 **I hope this works as a Band-Aid on your mental wounds:**

 **Chapter Twenty-One**

"That's the stupidest idea I've ever heard!" exclaimed Hermione, still slightly shaken up after seeing the Pheralius curse displayed as a gaping wound in Malfoy's stomach.

Ron, who's cheeks were ghastly white and withheld a tint of green, said, "I think it's brilliant," His sky-blue eyes locked with Hermione's and he stated plainly, "I mean, it _is_ risky, but what other chance will we get?"

With a nervous nod, Harry sighed, "In the end, everything we do will be risky. I say we take the chance and dearly hope Malfoy isn't the traitorous, little brat we all know he is,"

Only a few feet behind them, Malfoy stood, balancing from one foot to another impatiently. He snorted loudly, "You know I can hear you!"

Hermione was about to hurl back a sarcastic comment at him, but a hard glance from Ron made her bite it back. With a snarl, she peered at the white-haired Slytherin with disgust. On cue, his eyes captured hers in an intense glare before he casually strolled to their little gathering. As a friend, he wrapped one arm around Ron's frail shoulders and another around Hermione. She shuddered uncomfortably as Malfoy said, "In my opinion, I think we should go with my admirable plan. It's fool-proof–" he patted Ron on the shoulder, "–excellent and of course, just as marvellous as the maker himself,"

"…high on himself," she heard Ron mutter, his cheeks sparkled with pale freckles under his narrowed eyes. If Hermione had to guess, she'd say he was beyond repulsed by the fact that Draco Malfoy had his arm draped around his shoulders so casually.

Harry said, "What about you tell us, _in detail_ , how we are going to get to Vol – _You-Know-Who_ without being _seen_ , and much less _noticed_?"

Malfoy let out a snort, and wetted his lips, "Polyjuice,"

Ron furrowed his brows, "Polyjuice?"

"Polyjuice."

Harry's expression softened, "That may actually work! You're not as stupid as you look, Malfoy, that much you can have,"

Cocking her head, Hermione asked, "What's Polyjuice? Some sort of drink?"

With a crooked smile, Ron gladly answered, delighted that Malfoy's hand had slid away from around his shoulders, "Polyjuice is a potion that, with only a small amount of a person's hair, skin or other identifiable part, can make you look like said person for an hour,"

Hermione's eyebrows rose and with an astonishing glance at Harry exclaimed, "That's amazing!"

Ron beamed proudly. He sent an occasional glance at her, assuring himself that she was still smiling.

"Now, if you two love birds could only stop flirting, we'd actually make progress in this conversation," Malfoy said, a cruel grin plastered across his sickly white face.

Ron and Hermione immediately looked at each other, before they pulled their gazes away and turned a strong shade of tomato red. From her side vision, she swore that Ron's ears were red as traffic lights, but brushed it off when she felt the heat in her own cheeks. She thanked God that her loose, brown curls covered up the colour in a carpet of brown. She cursed Harry when still laughter echoed in her ears.

Malfoy snapped his long fingers, "Now, back in business, folks,"

Weakly, Ron muttered, "Bloody dodgy blighter,"

Without lifting an eyebrow, he replied rudely, "Big words, Weasley, for such a little brain. Didn't think you knew that many words, you who didn't have enough money to afford even second-hand school books?"

Ron gritted his teeth, a ravenous expression on his face. Malfoy's sneer flickered and Harry said coolly, "You're gambling with life, Malfoy. We could have killed you and you are still defenceless against all of us. I suggest you to be careful with what you say,"

Malfoy snorted, "We all know I am essential to you defeating the Dark Lord. You wouldn't dare, Potter,"

A minute of tense silence passed. Malfoy's sneer decreased from being self-confident and cocky to end up as a weak shell of a façade. He knew that, deep down, the outcome would be most beneficial to him if he played along. Hermione could read it on his face like an open book.

"Malfoy," Hermione said, "Tell us about the plan,"

"Firstly," he said smugly, "it will blow your socks off,"

"That's not what I meant, so _please_ , be a little more cooperative,"

Malfoy sized her up, but immediately crumbled in front of her when she brought up his wand and suggestively checked how bendable it was. Ron snorted at his pathetic reaction and Hermione smiled victoriously as he backed away and lifted his hands defensively. She definitely wanted to break his wand in two if he didn't begin talking soon.

"One year ago, I couldn't even picture myself here plotting against the Dark Lord," he mused. Hermione growled irritated. Malfoy's eyes bulged before his voice pitched and he said, "Okay, okay, okay. Weasley, can you please put your dog in a collar before it attacks me?"

Instantly, Ron's ears went blood red. He snarled at Malfoy's bleak expression, "Talk. _Now_."

With a frown, Ron moved closer to Hermione and with a dark glare at Malfoy asked her for his wand. His fingers touched hers before he snapped the wand out of her hand. He gripped it tightly and opened his palm. The dark wooden stick laid calmly over the long scar embedded in his palm. A spark of curiosity ignited in Hermione, and she reminded herself to ask how he got it later.

Harry took a few steps forward and out of his wand, dazzling white sparks seemed to emit. Ron still wore a mask of cold fury, Malfoy's wand laying unprotected and in the open in his hand. The seriousness of his situation looked like it had dawned on Malfoy, as he paled and he finally got to the point.

"The resurrection is going to be held in the Ministry building, in… Mother is going to kill me for telling you,"

"But?" Harry pointed out.

"It's in their secret floor," Ron's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Malfoy brushed it off before continuing, "I know, Weasley. The Ministry officials that were sent to inspect everybody's houses were simply too stupid to notice the heavily enchanted floor in their very own building,"

He laughed quietly at himself. Hermione was beginning to doubt his sanity.

"To get into the protected part of the wing, we'll have to solve personally chosen riddles by the Dark Lord himself. I have never been there, and only a few trusted Death Eaters are allowed in, so we'll have to brew the potion with the hairs of the chosen few. Which means, we'll have to corner Greyback, Yaxley and two more of the most dangerous, malicious and insane killers throughout wizarding history,"

He let the words sink in. The silence made Hermione play with the hem of her orange sweater in a nervous, unnerved way. Her eyes flickered over to Harry, whose expression looked hopeless and lost. He still had his wand pointed at Malfoy's chest, but the insecurity was showing in the form of uncontrolled shaking in his aching arm. Ron, on the other hand, was frustrated and furious with the blonde prat. Hermione herself was no better, feeling exhausted after too many eventful days and emotional trauma.

"Lucky for you," Malfoy smirked, "Before I ran away, I did what should have been done,"

"What?" Hermione asked, "What did you do?"

"I stole the hairs, of course!"

She had never seen Ron's face change quicker. From the angered, ugly look he'd wore, in the span of a split second, he was now shining with happiness. She couldn't help but feel his warm smile's joy spread into her bones and make her bubble with excitement. His smile was wide and askew as always, a dimple appearing in his freckled cheek. His baby-blue eyes sparkled and she wanted to cry at his sudden adorable radiation.

Hermione wanted to hug him so bad it sent a shrill down her spine just thinking about it.

As fast as the sudden need had appeared, Ron's hand was suddenly in contact with hers. In the moment, Hermione felt herself dazzled with surprise and confusion. The warmth from his soft skin seeped into her cold hand and she realized she liked the feeling of him being close. In the blink of an eye, the moment was ripped apart and he handed her Malfoy's wand. Before his hand slipped out of their embrace, she was torn between clutching it or not, before it was too late and she was left with the coldness of the dark wood. Disappointed, she felt like Ron had taken with him a shred of her passion.

Harry nodded approvingly, "Do we still have the bag?" Hermione broke out of her daze and peered at him questioningly. He elaborated, "We had all the potion ingredients in that bag. Do we have it?"

Malfoy sighed, "Have you lost all faith in me already?"

Harry deadpanned, "We never had faith in you in the first place, Ferret,"

"Well, if you had, then perhaps I would've shared my widely assorted Potion Brew Set with you, but seen as we aren't on the same terms, I will take my potion set and leave," he began walking in a random direction in absolute silence, his nose stuck in the air arrogantly.

"Malfoy, wait," he ignored Harry's request and continued strolling at a moderate pace in the direction of an old and battered tree. His two friends glared at him and Harry sighed, "Malfoy, we need you,"

Immediately, he spun around with a smirk that screamed victory, "What did you say again?"

Harry said through gritted teeth, "I'm not going to repeat myself,"

Ron grinned from ear to ear before he said sternly, "For your information, Malfoy, we don't have plenty of time,"

The process of potion brewing that followed was something Hermione didn't quite understand. First there were the abnormal ingredients – like Bezoar and Acromantula Venom. Then, there were the extraordinary methods of brewing. If brewing potions was so easy that if you stirred the potion five times to the left, why hadn't some poor, oblivious Muggle come over the recipe for a Wizarding potion?

After a hair-raising argument, a mind-blowing ingredients list and a lot of stirring, the Polyjuice Potion was ready and parted into four different bottles.

Just thinking about drinking the substance made Hermione want to gag. The liquid – if the thick, uneven mess could be called a liquid – was a green-grey colour and had large lumps in it. Overall, it resembled the type of mud that you don't want to step into.

"And we are supposed to drink _that_?" she squealed, turning the bottle upside down and watched the mess slowly work its way down the glass, leaving a trail of brown slime.

"It looks quite nasty, but it's not ready yet," Ron said, "You have to add the hairs,"

Hermione shot him a disgusted look.

Malfoy proceeded by pulling out a small, yellowed envelope from his pocket. In a swift motion, he suddenly dropped a hair into each bottle. She swallowed nervously as the long, blonde hair melted into the repulsing potion.

Ron put a hand on her shoulder, his warmth spreading into her entire body, and especially in her pink cheeks, "Don't worry. If you're lucky, the hair will make it taste better,"

Hermione faked a shudder, "Lord help me, this shall be my end,"

He didn't remove his hand from her shoulder and this time, she didn't fake the nervous shiver. Ron met her nervous gaze and as if burnt, his eyes flickered insecurely to Harry. Hermione's world became a tad brighter when she realized the faint hint of red on his cheeks was a blush.

The feeling of delight almost overwhelmed the sense of nausea she got from looking at the revolting potions. Keyword: _almost._

Ron's hand suddenly slid away from her and she turned around. He smiled proudly and waved at his portion of disgusting mud, "See, the colour has changed,"

Hermione cocked her head and looked down at her own bottle, first now noticing the change of colour in her own. While Ron's purple potion was bubbling like soda, hers had turned white as snow. When she gripped the glass, the potion radiated a sickly warmth.

She had to force herself to lift it and with a tense smile, Ron and Hermione said in unison, "Cheers!"

 **End Notes**

 **Again, I cannot excuse myself too much for this crime! I am indescribably sorry, but I sincerely hope this chapter makes it up to you. Five pages with dialogue and I'm sorry for the boring filler chapter.**

 **For all the followers to this story: Thank you for reading! I'd be incredibly nice if you would take the time to leave a review! It doesn't matter whether it's a long or short review, but I'd like to get some feedback on what I do good, and what I have potential to work with. Thank you beforehand!**

 **To all my wonderful reviewers: Thank you so, so much! It means so much to me that you take the time to review my story! You're amazing – all of you! Keep on being good humans and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **To me, this chapter felt very Out Of Character (OOC). What do you think?**

 **(Coming Up Next: Romione!)**


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

 **Thank you to all those wonderful people who reviewed. I will be answering some questions at the bottom of the page:)**

 **Chapter Twenty-Two**

Hermione had never felt so immeasurably queasy as she felt at the moment. The foul taste of the lumpy potion was still lingering on her tongue like vomit.

Her skin was tingling and waves of nausea rolled over her. Horrified, she looked down and realized her skin was expanding and was being formed like clay. To her embarrassment, she let out a loud yelp when her belly suddenly expanded to thrice its earlier size. With a noise similar to an old man wheezing, she felt her hair slowly, revoltingly retreat into her head. Her brown curls withered and became a thin layer of wispy, white hair on her pale scalp.

Looking down at herself – or rather himself – Hermione was terrified. She had grown quite taller, and her skin was dotted with small wrinkles and veins. She shuddered.

Looking up at the others, Hermione couldn't recognize a face.

Where Ron had been standing, a very indelicate man stood. He was small and buff, with a thin, sickly-looking black beard. Underneath heavy, dark eyebrows, glinting black beetle-eyes were staring at her.

On the other hand, who she assumed was Draco Malfoy, was a young man with brown hair sleeked back and a line of beard on his chin.

Harry, unlucky as he was, looked like a homeless person that Hermione could imagine living under a rock. He had curly brown hair tinted grey at the tips that fell down to his shoulders. Underneath bushy, grey eyebrows, two pale blue eyes looked up at her. Harry's whole face was littered with wrinkles and his skin a sick, wax-like colour.

The first person to break the silence was Ron, who took a few trying steps before he, with the moves of a ballerina, turned in a circle and said in a sing-song voice, "Am I not pretty? How bloody pretty I am,"

Ron's puppet looked ridiculous where he danced, although his face darkened slightly when he saw Hermione. It was clear that he recognized her, but from where, she didn't want to know.

'Hermione' laughed quietly, and jumped in shock. Out of her dry lips, a very much manly chuckle came out. She coughed, "I sound like a fifty-year-old man,"

'Ron' said, "You _look_ like a fifty-year-old man, 'Mione," The dark look still marred the disgusting man's features.

She laughed again forcibly, but was cut off by whom she believed was Malfoy. He lifted a hand and they froze in place, even 'Harry', who's face didn't seem to have stopped bubbling, "I think it's time you get your aliases. We are now very trusted Death Eaters, and it is important that you act like it _at all times._ No exceptions, understood?"

They were all intently listening to him, and nobody answered.

"Potter, you are Augustus Rookwood. You worked as a spy in the Ministry of Magic before Karkaroff turned on you. You would, if you ever had the chance, murder him in cold blood,"

'Harry' nodded hesitantly.

"Weasley," he said, "Your name is Antonin Dolohov. You're behind the murders of the Prewetts, and have been in Azkaban numerous times,"

'Ron' frowned, but didn't disagree.

"Muggle," Hermione felt the anger spark in her, and she wasn't long from snapping at him when Malfoy said begrudgingly, " _Granger,_ you are Thorfinn Rowle, the one and only Death Eater who managed to capture Harry Potter and Ron Weasley under the Wizarding War. Unfortunately for you, they managed to escape before you could bring them to the Dark Lord, although they didn't make it out of your custody without injuries,"

'Malfoy' sported a grin when he continued, just as 'Ron' shot him a fiery glare, "You were severely punished by the Dark Lord for your mistake. You only pushed through because you are such a loyal follower to him,"

She looked at him in confusion, but he continued without care, "I, myself, am Rabastan Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange's brother-in-law. A very trusted and _insane_ Death Eater with a long record,"

He paused, "It is important we only call each other by our given names. The Potion lasts for exactly one hour. That means, we have to get inside the Headquarters before it lasts off,"

Hermione nodded. Through the riddles and challenges they would face on their way to the secret floor in the Ministry building, they could easily be cornered. Under the pretence that they were actual Death Eaters, concentrating on the tasks would be easier, especially without the dread of getting uncovered hovering over them. Even so, if they managed to get into the room of the resurrection, an alias would be perfect.

If they lasted that long, that was…

She shivered. What would she do if one of them got hurt? She didn't even have magical abilities – how would she defend herself? This time, she wasn't certain if Ron would stick around to protect her like a naïve knight in shining armour. The thought made her want to turn around and cancel the whole brewing, Wizarding war.

But she couldn't. She knew, that never in a lifetime, would she leave her very first, real friends. Even if her knees were buckling, her eyes burning or her mind crumbling – she would not leave them.

"Come here, let's get this started," 'Rabastan' said, dark eyes glinting in the dark, "We've gotten 58 minutes,"

Holding hands, and preparing herself for the nausea of Side-Along Apparition, Hermione's eyes met the black beetle-eyes of one Antonin Dolohov. In a moment of surprise, before the pull in her stomach would begin, it looked as if the carpet, the façade over the man's black eyes, lifted and a piece of the sky blue, innocent eyes of Ron Weasley peered at her. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, before it withered and died. With a pang of disappointment, she once again stared at the cold, black eyes of a disgusting man.

'58 minutes', was her last thought before the fellowship was sucked into the world of Apparition, colours and darkness blurring her vision and the adrenaline deafening her as the blood rushed in her ears.

 _58 minutes._

That's all she had.

 **End Notes**

 **Very short and very non-Romione. Sorry! I realized this became too long of an introduction to the fight if I was going to add what's coming up next to the same chappie. Again, I hope you think it's alright, and I'd love to hear what you think so far!**

 **Some answers to questions in the reviews section:**

 **Happyteddybear96: Here's a summary if it helps: Hermione meets Ron in her cottage. The Death Eaters come, and she begins the quest of finding out how to destroy Voldemort with Ron and Harry. In the beginning, they think it is Horcruxes once again (hinting that another battle has been fought before), but it later is discovered that it is the Pheralius Curse that is going to resurrect him. They find it out after visiting the source in Belgium, finding him dead, then Malfoy telling them, (after all this work, oh no). They know Voldemort will be resurrected in the secret floor at the Ministry, and have to Polyjuice themselves to get in. – If this was understandable, I hope it helps with understanding the chaotic storyline!**


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

I'm so sorry for the long break. I was hit by wave after wave of writer's block, and had zero motivation. Today I pinched my arm and told myself to get this over with… So, here we are. Please enjoy!

 **Chapter Twenty-Three**

Malfoy abruptly stopped when they reached the elevator. Harry, Ron and Hermione staggered behind him, almost walking into his back. They exchanged a glance, surprising themselves by looking at someone completely foreign. They were all still unaccustomed to being someone else.

All around them, Ministry officials and other witches and wizards clad in formal robes hurried past them. Some were talking loudly to each other, while others were muttering their excuses as they bumped into people on their way to somewhere. The fireplaces emitted a pleasant 'poof' every time someone threw the powder into them and disappeared.

In front of them, Malfoy tapped his wand against the door three times. _Tap, tap, tap._

Hermione tensed. As far as they knew, he could be leading them into a trap. On the other hand, she thought, his story _did_ sound very believable. Even if the Malfoys were all rumoured to be bloodthirsty beasts.

And as the old Muggle saying goes, 'the best love always changes you into a better person'.

A hand found hers as they heard three clear _taps_ from the other side of the elevator doors.

Of course, she didn't recognize the hand, seen as they all had changed into Death Eater mannequins. Even so, she already knew who it'd be. A weak smile tugged at her lips, of course it would be Ron. Sweet Ron who always tried to calm her down when she was afraid.

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. The disgusting man Ron had turned into – Antonin Dolohov –, really needed a pair of baby blue eyes, an askew smile and a face full of freckles. Not to mention a mop of red hair and a body way taller.

Then she could hold his hand without feeling the hint of disgust in the back of her mind.

Although she was speaking of appearance only. Antonin Dolohov's black mind would solely be a totally different challenge.

Hermione felt dread wash over her as the elevator doors slid open soundlessly, like a mouth opening before it would swallow them whole.

For a second, she regretting coming there. She wasn't even a Magical, and when everything came together, she was defenceless. She collected herself as a reassuring squeeze came from Antonin Dolohov's large hand. Now she was here, and there was no turning back. There hadn't been a turning back since she had come with Harry and Ron back at her cottage.

Malfoy stepped into the dark elevator, and the others followed. As soon as they had come inside, the doors slammed shut. A deep echo was thrown from wall to wall inside the cramped elevator, before a breeze suddenly blew it away.

In a monotone, demanding voice, she heard the man in front of her announce their arrival, "I am Rabastan Lestrange. I come with Rowle, Dolohov and Rookwood. Open up,"

Another breeze swept through the elevator, and goosebumps appeared on Hermione's forearms.

From somewhere, the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy arose, "Password, please,"

In front of her, Malfoy seemed to falter slightly, and Hermione began wondering what they would do if he gave them the wrong password.

"There isn't any password, _Lucius_ ,"

Ok. They were doomed. That was the final drop, they would all die.

Then, from the other side of somewhere, she heard Lucius Malfoy tap his cane. Suddenly, a door flew open at their side, and Hermione felt coldness emitting from the open tunnel. The goosebumps on her arms wavered as another icy gust of wind swept over them.

Silently, the three followed Malfoy in the lead, as he walked slowly into the dark tunnel. Nobody lighted a wand. She tried not to stumble in the dark, not quite knowing if it would fit Thorfinn Rowle's character.

After a while doused with the sound of shuffling feet and darkness, they came upon a place where the tunnel parted. Lucius Malfoy tapped his cane and walked into the slightly smaller tunnel. As soon as the group of five had entered the tunnel, the stones behind them began to shift. Hermione watched amazed as they began to form a wall behind them.

"Rowle, light your wand," Lucius demanded, his cold eyes glinting at her in the darkness.

Hermione's mind raced. She was not a Magical, and could certainly not light a wand, whether she'd had one or not. Adrenaline surged in her veins, and she shivered. A peace suddenly dawned on her, and she collected the bravery that had kept her going all those weeks.

"Lucius," she growled in the gruffest voice she managed, "We are on a mission for the Dark Lord. We don't have time for your silly games,"

Lucius didn't answer. Hermione's words rung in the cold room, and she realized how much authority she had poured into her voice. The silence that followed sent an unnerved shudder through her, that thankfully went unnoticed by the other silent people in the tunnel.

For good measures, Hermione added with malice, "Light your own wand, _Lucius_ ,"

The tension had built around them steadily, but it suddenly evaporated when the voice of Augustus Rookwood broke the silence.

"I can do it. We are in a hurry and we have to get moving," 'Harry' said, and Hermione hoped they would get going soon. The minutes were ticking by.

As soon as the spell _Lumos_ penetrated the air, the blonde Death Eater jumped to his feet.

Lucius walked in big steps towards Harry, his cold eyes shining unpleasantly. He stood still for a second, making the three of them hold their breath. Then, he reached for Harry's wand, while Harry wordlessly complied. As if he had recognized the piece of wood, his cold eyes lighted up.

"Ah, ah," Lucius said, "See who we have here,"

The trio looked exchanged glances, while Draco Malfoy in the front stood like frozen, his eyes moving in tact with Lucius' movements.

"Harry _Potter_ ," he spat.

"I adore your bravery, but _unfortunately_ –," the man drawled on, letting his bony fingers glide over the wood of the wand, "You will never come closer to the Dark Lord than this,"

As soon as the words had sunk in, Ron yelled behind them, and a thread of light snivelled between them and pushed Lucius Malfoy straight into the cold hard wall. " _Expelliarmus!_ "

For good measures, another spell sounded from Draco Malfoy, " _Petrific Totalus_ ,"

He then bent down to the unconscious man and tore the wand out of his pale fingers. Looking around, he realized Harry's wand had fallen just under his nose, and gave the two of them to The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Use Father's wand from now on, Potter,"

When Lucius' wand came in contact to Harry's skin, the wall that had been created behind them collapsed, and the hollow sound of stone hitting stone echoed in the long tunnels.

Without a word, Malfoy lead them out of the tunnel they had just entered, and they followed him into the other one, which started where the first tunnel had parted. Hermione still had to shake off her nerves.

They had walked for a while when Ron asked Malfoy, "Why did you let Lucius lead us into that other tunnel, if you know it was this way we were supposed to go?"

Malfoy smirked, "I don't,"

Ron stuttered, "You don't know if this is the right way?"

"What did I just tell you, Wea–"

With that, he disappeared.

He had been going in the front, with Harry behind him, and then Hermione and Ron. Harry had suddenly yelped, and screeched to a halt, his arms holding the others behind him as they didn't stop fast enough. He stumbled and turned around, panicked.

"Where did he go?!"

"He's probably getting his other Death Eater friends!"

"I don't think he Apparated,"

"I knew he was a traitor from the beginning!"

Hermione raised her hands, and the two others were silenced immediately. "We don't have time to argue, we have to keep going. We can't stay here," she said in a convincing voice. Even if her voice sounded cool, inside she was shivering with fear. She wasn't ready to die just yet.

She kept telling herself to keep going, that they had passed the point of turning back.

Then, abruptly, Harry disappeared too. Out of thin air – he was just gone. There were no traces to where he could have gone.

One second he stood there, his eyebrows high in the air, and his mouth twisted into a confused frown. Next second, where he had stood, were nothing.

She whirled around, her fingers crossed.

There was no Ron in sight, and she felt like breaking down then and there. The feeling of a mix of distress, panic and hopelessness exploded in her heart. The hollowness that followed made her eyes burn with unshed tears.

In a daze, Hermione took another step forward. Her sole hit the ground with a sharp, flat sound.

Then, another sensation took over her. It felt like she was falling and spinning in circles downwards. Like she was hanging in a thin thread over a black gorge. She forced her eyes open, but she could still see the walls of the tunnel, and the darkness ahead.

Suddenly, the walls began to melt, and the colours swirled altogether into a great grey mess. She was so dizzy she could not think straight.

She suddenly fell out of balance, and had to take a staggering step to the side to keep from falling. A headache made its way into her head, thumping with the beat of her heart.

Then, in her state of dizziness and agony, she realized her foot had never met the floor. Looking down, her foot had gone through the floor.

She let out a yelp before her whole body followed. She had fallen straight through the rock-hard floor!

As soon as her head fell under the stone, everything turned black. Her senses left her with a distant ringing in her ears, and the world around her was numbed into nothingness.

 **End Notes**

I hope you liked it. A much longer chapter than usual, and I hope it makes up for the waiting time. Thank you for almost 10 000 hits, and all the reviews you have given me! I love you, guys!


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

 **Hello again, my patient friends! I can assure you that I am, in fact, not dead. I've got some explaining to do at the end of this chapter!:)**

 **I hope you still enjoy my story!**

 **Chapter Twenty-Four**

Hermione's mind was numb. Her tongue felt alien and swollen in her mouth. Her eyes were spinning, and a sense of shock lurked in her mind. She could not believe whatever had just happened to her. To a non-Magical, things like these weren't supposed to happen.

She had fallen through the floor.

She had actually fallen through it, like it was nothing more than mere water.

Her eyes opened, and she could not recall when she had closed them shut. The sudden darkness that had engulfed her moments ago was gone, and replaced by a simple glow from a stick held in front of her, by a man with a nasty grin and dark hair in heaps.

"Come on, Herm – I mean, Rowle," Antonin Dolohov grinned at her, his wand illumination the wrinkles in his face and the pendant of Basilisk venom hidden in his clothes.

She sneered at him, knowing that her expression probably looked just as menacing as Ron looked ugly, in the Death Eater skins, to mention. He was not remotely ugly in his own skin, if not a little insecure.

Harry – Augustus Rookwood – had just gotten up from the floor, and followed tight as the trio sneaked towards a faint light, in the end of another tunnel.

Hermione, although terrified to the most inner bone, wondered how the Death Eaters navigated through the endless tunnels underneath the Ministry building.

"I –" she started, unsure of what exactly she was going to say. For her, falling through the floor in the enemy's lair was _not_ normal. She would have loved to see them in her position, completely clueless of everything that was happening to and around her.

She didn't have time to say anything more, as the floor suddenly seemed to expand around her feet. The light at the end of the corridor seemed to tear away from its spot, and swirled closer to them at a quick speed. A hard, sharp sound followed it, and it only grew in volume.

As the previously pleasant, yellow glow halted, the sound echoed in the cold, wet tunnel they had fallen into. The sound was nauseous, and only added to her already hurting headache. She seemed like the only one affected, sitting hard on the floor and half-heartily registering what was happening around her.

Then, suddenly, the light sank down to the same level as the floor – at her level.

Her eyes widened, and the whites in her eyes shone as the light seemed to melt into the black brick stones on the floor and then suddenly evaporated, leaving a faint glow in the ends of the bricks.

Then, it expanded.

Like a wave, it spread over the floor.

The glow travelled over each brick. She saw it wash over the bricks towards the trio, and without her notice, it suddenly had gone underneath her, and followed into the walls, where it went up into the roof, and seemed to meet at the spot over them.

It met in a circle of light, and then seeped out of the wall again, this time in the form of liquid.

The golden liquid began dripping from the spot on the roof, and landed spot onto the head of her messy-haired companion, who now sported less attractive looks.

"What the?!" Harry started, before his eyes grew wide, and frantically tried to wipe the glowing liquid off of his long, curly, and not to mention dirty hair, "Get it off! Ron, remove it! IT'S HOT!" he shrieked.

Ron hesitated, before he immediately raised his wand, " _Scourgify!_ "

The liquid turned into smoke and vanished.

Hermione got on her feet in a rush, "What are we going to do?" she asked with a nervous tint in her voice and watched the liquid continue dripping from the roof, creating a small pool of golden light on the floor.

She looked around, and only then realized that the corridor had completely changed shape, and was now in the form of a room. With no entrance nor exit.

A blue shine ran over the stones, illuminating the room in blue.

Ron looked at her, and she could see some of his distress in those cold killer eyes.

"I guess Malfoy senior lead us into the wrong tunnel," he muttered.

"This is hopeless. There is no way out, there are only walls," Harry pointed out. "Do you have any ideas? I mean, we could try barging through the walls?"

Ron shook his head, "Won't work. You see the blue shine? They are protected against spells. Trust me, my brother Bill used to work as a Curse Breaker,"

"But there must be a way out, right? If a Death Eater went the wrong way, and got trapped here, instead of us, yes?" Hermione half-stated, half-asked.

She was met with silence. Harry sighed. "Not necessarily,"

He leant against the wall, far away from the liquid dripping from the roof. The puddle had grown remarkably in size. He slid down the wall and sat down on the ground, his eyes focusing on the dripping liquid.

Ron let out a hard-ragged breath.

"I knew we would never make it. You know what I think? We'll probably die anyway, either here or if we meet the Dark Lord,"

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, "I think you mean _when_ we meet the Dark Lord,"

Her last words echoed silently in the room.

Ron opened his mouth to say something more when she cut him off. "We can't give up, do you understand? Giving up is like giving up all the sacrifices that have been made. It is like giving up your parents, Harry. Or for you Ron, forgiving him for what he did to you brother. If we don't stop him, who will?"

Harry and Ron stared at her. Ron's empty gaze sent her feelings rushing in a downward spiral. Someone had to do something to get them out. Right now, that had to be her.

Hermione straightened, and brushed off imaginary dust from her clothes. She stood taller than she had ever done before, as she lifted her head along with the spirit in the closed-off room. It seemed to have suffocated the hope for a moment.

She looked around, a small hope sparking in her stomach. She channelled all the positivity she could bear and walked around the room while her fingers felt the wall.

"There _has_ to be a way out. A loose brick in the wall, or perhaps a button,"

She let her hands slide against the slick material of the wall, starting at the far top, then working down to the bottom.

It felt like ages since she had held Ron's hand, and it felt like years since the butterflies in her stomach had acted up.

When Ron suddenly stood beside her and helped search the wall, it all returned. She had almost forgotten how good it felt.

Had he not looked like an old man, she might just have kissed him.

On the cheek, of course! She wasn't in love with him! That would have only been weird, right? It was just a silly crush!

But somewhere deep in her heart, a voice spoke to her, and she knew what it said was true. Even if she denied it, Ron was special to her.

Her inner dialogue was abruptly cut off, as her hand made contact with a brick with a different texture than the rest. The hard, rough surface was completely different from the sleek, smooth stone.

She gasped, "I found something!"

She hadn't even noticed that Harry had joined their search. He abruptly stopped his searching from the corner to her right, and immediately scooted towards her, along with Ron at her left. They both leaned over.

"What is it?" Ron asked, when he didn't see anything.

She grabbed his hand softly, and let it glide over the different brick. "It is rougher than the rest, like it has not been polished at all,"

He smiled at her. His smile still looked askew and contained some of its warmth, even in the face of Antonin Dolohov.

Or maybe it was just a figment of her imagination.

Ron leant forward, then gave it a little push. It let out a leisure screeching noise, like from a rusty door that had not been used in a long time.

Then, the bricks around it seemed to open. Hermione hoped they would disappear, and open up to a cosy room with a couch and crackling fireplace. To her disappointment, it opened to reveal something that vaguely reminded her of a sink.

There was a drain, which looked like it once had been a copper colour, but was now covered in green encrustation. It ended in an open bowl of the same colour. There were no taps, and the drain was only a dark hole in the middle of it. What surprised her the most was a stone head that protruded from the wall over the sink. It looked like a dragon's head with beautiful and intricate carvings, its eyes narrow and its mouth drawn into a snarl. Its sharp teeth created a cage, where a long, forked tongue stuck out in their direction like a mocking gesture.

She caught Ron's gaze. He looked like a big question mark, and she certainly felt so too.

Harry said, "Do any of you know what this is?"

Hermione replied, "I think it looks like some kind of fountain? Or maybe we are supposed to put that golden liquid in the drain?"

"I don't think so. How are we supposed to get it there? It is hot, and surely hurts a lot too,"

Ron squinted and leant over the figure, "It looks like there has been something on its tongue." Now that he was not as tall as he usually were, he therefore had to put an effort into looking at the brown, dry substance on its tongue. He suddenly jumped back, "Bloody hell!"

The words sprung back and forth inside the chamber, until they died out. Silence settled.

Hermione was the first one to talk, "Is that…blood?"

Harry shuddered, "Maybe that's the way out. To sacrifice something?"

"Or someone," Ron said, his voice flat.

Goosebumps spread on Hermione's forearms, and she shivered. She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she suddenly had become cold, "I liked the idea of us having to put the golden liquid in its mouth much better,"

 **End Notes**

 **Thank you for waiting for this chapter! I am so sorry if I have disappointed you, but as you see, I am back in business again! (Even if there has been half a year)**

 **Unfortunately, my computer crashed and I lost** _ **ALL**_ **my files! It contained all my school work from this year, and the storyline along with a half-written chapter that just needed to be revised, and it was all** _ **gone**_ **!** **I had to rewrite a lot of things for school (especially for my Nazi Science teacher), and to be frank, that clearly didn't help for my motivation.**

 **Therefore I want to especially thank the lovely** _ **kehwie**_ **who recently reviewed this story and reminded me that there are people who actually care about what I write.**

 **I also want to thank** _ **HeRonLove, JeanAndBilius, Ifit'sNotBaroque**_ **and** _ **LilyJean630**_ **for a bunch of wonderful reviews. I love you all, thank you immensely much!**


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

Thanks for all the kind reviews. I absolutely adore you!

 _kehwie:_ The thing with the computer absolutely stinks, I agree with both my souls and eleven fingers. Your comment was kind of sad, so here is your second mention!

Also incredible thank to _Beetle126, JeanAndBilius_ (who's been here since the beginning of time, and thank you for that!), _Guest_ and _HeRonLove_ (and I totally agree with you on Hermione, but you will see, maybe she does;))

 **Chapter Twenty-Five**

Hermione's mind was running with possibilities, hoping that they would be wrong about their newfound discovery. The dripping golden liquid continue to add to the golden-hot puddle in the middle of the now claustrophobic room.

Suddenly, an idea popped up in her head, and she squealed.

She hesitated before she turned to the others, a bewildered look on her face, that seemed so very like Hermione.

"I think it may be some kind of identification tablet, like we have at home" she said, her eyes lighting up, "One's blood is unique, seen as there is DNA in the white blood cells. There is so little coagulated blood there that it would make sense. So maybe we don't need to sacrifice anything at all?" she informed the others, with a hopeful peak at the end of her explanation.

She looked up, only to find Ron (or Dolohov as his puppet was dubbed), looking at her with a blank expression, which of course turned into a sour grimace in the disgusting face of Antonin Dolohov. A similar expression wore Augustus Rookwood, the Polyjuiced face of Harry Potter, which surely put her on the edge. The pendant around Ron's neck blinked in the sparse light.

"You should know about this, shouldn't you? You're a Half-Blood," Hermione asked Harry, whose face didn't seem to have any understanding of basic high school science.

Harry shook his head sheepishly, "I quit school long before we learned that,"

Hermione's mouth turned into a perfectly round circle, the word 'oh' silently on her lips. She blinked, "Anyway, all we have to do it let a drop of our blood slip onto the tongue of little Miss Dragon Statue here. The only question I have is, does our blood change along with our appearances?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't know. I've never really thought about it before,"

Ron put a hand on her shoulder, "Neither do I," he said, his voice breaking like a teenager's. She had to fight the urge to smile, even if she knew that their current situation was grave.

Ron thought for a while before he concluded, "Most likely not,"

She swatted his hand away and put a hand at her forehead. "Then I don't know what to do. We need to be Death Eaters by _blood_ to get out of this one, and to try our blood is too much of a risk –"

"What if we use the Basilisk blood then?" Ron suddenly said, a little louder than intended.

Harry immediately sprung up beside him, "Brilliant, Ron!"

Hermione wore a confused frown, clearly not getting what was so brilliant about the blood of a giant snake. "Why would that help?"

"Basilisk blood is an ingredient that hold both Magical purposes and is used for Cleansing!"

"So you suggest that we 'cleanse' this system, and hope that it will open up a floor for us?" she said, the doubt creeping into her voice.

Ron nodded wildly, "Exactly! Or, _almost_ exactly. My brother works as a Curse Breaker, I know things like this. If we use it, it'll have a double effect!"

He gesticulated as he explained, "It will firstly eliminate the Tainted Magic, seen as it was performed by Horcruxes. I've been thinking about for a while, and I think that our source in Belgium may have referred to the Death Eaters as Horcruxes, instead of actual things… or else, he was just bloody mistaken,"

"Anyway," he continued, and looked over at Hermione, "Basilisk blood, and for instance venom, can eliminate Horcruxes. It is very useful, seen as there are sparse numbers of things that can completely destroy those bloody bastards,"

Harry muttered approvingly, "We used Basilisk blood on that diary last winter…"

"So we can use it to remove their detection magic, since it still holds traces of Horcrux – or as we call it, Tainted Magic. And therefore, the statue will not notice that the blood even comes from another creature! It will only recognize it as blood, and since their detection spell doesn't mark it as a threat, it will assume that we should be let out of this room!"

Hermione almost laughed, and couldn't stop herself from suddenly embracing Ron in a random happiness-induced hug, "Harry was right, sometimes you are brilliant,"

What she did not know, was that Ron's expression had suddenly changed from proud, to ecstatic. His sparkling eyes widened and a beaming smile was plastered upon his flushed face. He noticed that she had called _him_ brilliant, instead of when Harry had simply stated that it was _his plan_ that was the brilliance.

She let go. Although she could feel her cheeks heating up, she let her expression morph into that of a leader's. "Let's try it,"

Harry abruptly seemed baffled, the mental picture of the two hugging still on repeat on the inside of his eyelids. He couldn't help the pang of jealousy that erupted from his heart when he realized that they had each other, while he would maybe never see Ginny again after this day.

He shook his head, and gestured to Ron to find the Basilisk blood.

Hermione gently took it as Ron handed it to her. It was still warm, after being in contact with Ron's chest and clothes for so long. She wondered how they had gotten it. She couldn't help but notice as his hand retreated, that the long scar that had marred his palm no longer was there, hidden by the Polyjuice.

She unscrewed the bottle, and let three fat drops land on the tongue of the statue. For a moment, nothing happened. They were only a few ordinary drops of extraordinary blood on the tongue of an enchanted statue.

Then, a high shrieking noise began, like a heavy door on rusty hinges, and the stone tongue rolled itself into the mouth of the dragon.

The screeching stopped, and there was a moment of silence. Then the tongue rolled out again, this time free from blood. Nothing happened.

Or to be exact, nothing happened _for a moment_.

Hermione was about to sigh, when suddenly, the golden liquid let go of its spot in the roof and splashed onto the entire floor. A wave of warmth made contact with her bare ankles as it spread out in a flash of golden light.

Then, for the second time this hour, she fell through the floor.

But what was different this time, was that she did not stop falling.

Her mind was frozen in a frantic banter caused by the panic of falling through the floor. _Again._

The wind was howling in her ears – almost deafeningly. She could feel goosebumps appearing on her forearms, as the wind brought the cold along. The coldness sneaked all the way from flaring up her legs, from her bare ankles, and to the tip of her nose. It even snaked a cold, dead hand up her neck, causing her hairs to stand at edge, desperately trying to obtain at least some of the warmth she had felt from the brief embrace with Ron earlier.

And her mind kept _yelling at her._

It told her to do something, to stop falling and to try and grasp something to hold on to. But it also screamed to her that there would be an abrupt moment, which could happen the very same second, that she would make contact with the bottom, and all the bones in her body would be crushed to dust, and her body would melt into a puddle of meat and blood gore.

She was absolutely terrified, at the same time as she was throughout amazed by the fact that she never seemed to stop falling.

"Harry, Hermione!" she heard Ron roar over the shrieking wind above her.

She tried to turn around, but the storm around her forced her back. Turning around was like getting a tarmac plate of stone-hard air straight in her face. It was like she felt the vacuum sucking her breath away. Breathing was hard enough with the wind forcing itself into her nose and mouth.

"Ron!" she exclaimed. She felt like her voice was drowning in the wind.

She heard Harry say something else behind her, but he was cut off, so she couldn't make out what he was saying.

She tried turning around again, thrashing wildly around her with her arms, and performed a perfect 360 degree that would have made an elite athlete proud.

She managed to catch sight of Harry's dark hair and robes above her, along with the redness of Ron's hair. It was like a torch that lit up the entire tunnel, and she could even see his sparkling baby blue eyes from what seemed like miles away.

That's when she realized it was wrong. Oh, so wrong.

With a gasp, she realized what Harry had oh-so-panicked shouted only moments ago, just as her long, brown curls grew back onto her head and whipped her in the face.

They had used up their hour.

She felt strangely bubbly. She didn't know if she should laugh or cry, or neither of them.

They were no longer camouflaged.

She turned back to getting the wind in her face, and almost slammed into the side wall at the sudden burst of force. She could feel the tears like razor-sharp knives against her skin.

They were the most wanted fighters, situated in the headquarters of the most horrible of the evil. And they were more exposed than ever.

In other words, they were as good as dead.

And for the first time since she had made the duo a trio, she let her tears stream freely, and she cried.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Monsters in the Eye of Monsters

 **Chapter Twenty-Six**

Ron's blue eyes. Harry's messy hair. It all flashed before her eyes, which were quickly filling with tears, making the unclear tunnel around her even blurrier as she was trapped in an endless, spiralling fall between those heavy walls.

His blue eyes, and his black hair. It all blended together in a swirling black and blue, as if it was mocking her.

She was afraid.

They were as good as dead.

It kept ringing in her ears. Her tears felt like acid to her exposed skin. Her mind was in clutters.

It kept ringing. Louder, until she could make out a mantra of uncomfortable voices in her head. Her stomach filled with butterflies, a kind she had never felt before. It was so painful, she wanted to scream, but her throat was closed off with strain, forcing her to take gulps of air at a time, like a fish out of water.

The nausea came and went, making her ringing ears louder, and making her throat tighten. She had to struggle for air.

A pressure built up at her temple, both from the pain, and from the tears tearing open her tear ducts from within. It felt like she was on fire. It was excruciating.

It hurt so much. She wanted to yell, to scream, to wail. She wanted to do _something_!

But she could do nothing, as the pressure at her temple increased, and the tears burned into her skin. Her stomach did a turn, and she forced herself not to vomit. She couldn't hear a thing, the rush of air that screamed in her ears was nothing compared to the high-pitched ringing.

It felt like her ear drums were splitting. Her head hurt so much.

Then, suddenly, it all lessened.

The ringing stopped immediately, the pressure in her head reached a peak, then was reduced to nothing, and the nausea evaporated completely.

She managed to let out a small yelp as her throat reopened, and drew in a large gulp of fresh, harsh night air.

And then, a loud _crack_ filled the air, bursting whatever was left of her hearing.

Pebbles filled the air, ruthlessly abusing their bodies, as they crashed into them at full force, the incredible wind encouraging the battered rocks to leave bruises and blood on their skin.

She was violently thrown to the side, her torso scraping against hard rock on the tunnel wall, before an unknown force cut her abrupt fall into a halt, making her wheeze with pain. She was held mid-air for a moment before she was violently thrown to the side, her path being straight for the other side of the tunnel.

Then, as she soared towards the horrid wall that was going to be her end, the pressure in her temple built up. Her head ascended in pain in tact with the proximity of the wall, before she, surprisingly, tumbled into something that reminded her of a cave. It was like the wall had evaporated just before the impact. It had simply turned to dust, which was now covering her shaking mess from head to toe as she lay on the sharp rock ground, her whole body shaking from exertion.

She turned around, her sight blurry, as the dust settled and two other figures rose around her, equally shaky and distraught.

Nobody said anything for a while, only their distinct groaning echoed in the small cave. A second later, something flew in with a marvellous speed, the two wizards' wands making their entrance, missing Harry's head by only a few inches.

The wands scattered across the ground, and halted just before her shaking feet.

She locked eyes with Ron. His blue ones were wide and filled with an emotion she could not quite place. She could not picture how she, herself looked.

His voice broke as he spelled out with a shivering voice, "Guess you got some magical blood in you, eh, 'Mione?"

All of Hermione's emotions suddenly manifested, and she was felt like her body was frozen in place. " _What_?"

Ron shrugged half-heartedly, "Who else could have done _that_? None of us had our wands, and if none of us suddenly learnt wandless magic, it had to be you who did it! And that is really some impressive piece of magic, Hermione!"

She was speechless.

"So you're saying I'm…a witch? A Magical?"

He smiled, his grin coming off askew. It had been a long time since she had felt the happiness she felt now. He closed the distance between them, and looked into her eyes, his own blue ones shining.

For a moment, Hermione was sure he was going to kiss her. A warm fuzzy feeling embraced her skin, before he surprised her, and embraced her in an half-awkward hug.

"And hadn't you been one, I would've been a dead man," he muttered in her ear, "Thank you, Hermione,"

She couldn't help but feel a little disappointment, both at herself for thinking such thoughts, and at him for not doing so.

She let go of him, and turned around to Harry, just in time to get a glimpse of the astonished look plastered across his face.

Her face burned underneath the carpet of dust that covered all of them. Ron and Harry had picked up their wands, and Harry looked at her with amazement. "You. Are. A-mazing, Hermione," he finally said.

She smiled and felt a determination she had rarely felt before, dawn on her. "But we still need a plan," she hesitated, "And I won't be of use, I don't know how this Magical thing works,"

Ron sat down with a cheery look on his face. "Then we will simply sit down and have a meeting. Right here, right now," She couldn't possibly phantom where he got the cheery feeling from.

Harry nodded, a light-felt look on his face, although his eyes were grave and dull.

He said, "To sum up our situation, we are without a plan, with a potentially traitorous Ferret running around with his Death Eater friends, not to mention, we are _very_ exposed," he waved his hand across his own face.

"Don't forget that our source in Belgium was wrong, and we are stuck with the dubious information we got from Malfoy," Ron piped up.

"I think he spoke the truth. He sounded genuine, and so did his story about Astoria," Hermione replied, "And the Pheralius curse looked real,"

"I think it was," Ron agreed after a break.

Another silence dawned on them where they sat, exhausted and dirty.

"I think they need _me_ for something. Think about what our source had written. _Resurrection, Horcruxes, Harry Potter–_ " Harry shivered, "Maybe they need _me_ for something? Since the other parts make sense. They need the Horcruxes to make the Resurrection work. What about me then?"

Hermione felt the dread deep in her stomach.

After a long discussion, she felt more afraid than determined, like she had before. She looked at the others. Their plan was chosen.

Harry sighed, "Our best shot is to get rid of the Pheralius curse,"

Ron swallowed hard, and his eyes fell. Hermione drew a sharp intake of breath, "We got to heal them,"

"And then…" Ron said, letting his hand fall from where she could see a crimson stain on his shirt, "It all relies on us. We got to do our best,"

They stood up and looked at each other. The emotions were running wild within every one of them. Harry lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. Then they met in the middle, embracing each other in one, long group hug.

Hermione felt guilty when her eyes lingered a little longer on Ron than Harry. She couldn't sense whether Harry had noticed or not. She patted him caringly on the back. "We will do our best. Either we will die fighting, or we will succeed. Whatever happens, I am so happy I got you all,"

They all agreed, and before the tears would surface, they made the decision to move. Ron and Hermione clung to Harry as he gave them one last hug before he lifted his gaze up, his wand tightly in his hand.

"Hold on," he said, and only moments later Hermione welcomed the uncomfortable feeling of soaring through nothingness, as they Apparated up into the tunnels once again.

 **End Notes**

I just wanted to say thanks for all the support, especially all the wonderful feedback. Thank you very much _Guest_ , _Mighty mito_ (this one is to you!), _kehwie_ (I totally agree, Ron is too often looked upon at as a person with the brilliance range of a teaspoon), _JeanAndBilius_ , _HeRonLove_ , _Beetle126_ , _khairuldaniels12_ (Did I update quick enough for you?;))and last, but not least _ntlpurpolia._

Final chapter coming up soon!


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